The Foundation Laid
by zpplnchick
Summary: Finding love is an indelible journey. What you must overcome in order to achieve it makes it that much sweeter, and two seemingly incompatible people are about to find out just how much. Heavily inspired by Jane Austen's Pride & Prejudice. PostHogwarts-EWE.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** Finding love is an indelible journey. What you must overcome in order to achieve it makes it that much sweeter, and two seemingly incompatible people are about to find out just how much. Heavily inspired by Jane Austen's _Pride & Prejudice_.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the laptop with which I wrote this and the coffee that I consumed to sustain me on this journey. Repeat: I own nothing.

**Author's Note:**

Just like any other girl, I fell in love with the story of a vivacious and witty young woman named Elizabeth Bennet and her plight with a brooding young man called Mr. Darcy. After becoming inspired by the Dramione Remix fests (a wondrous community that I highly recommend you check out on LiveJournal), this story came to mind. A reinterpretation, let alone a reinterpretation of a very beloved classic, is a tricky thing. I went over and over in my head of how I would do this—if I should even try at it—and this is the ending result. I took Jane Austen's plot, JK Rowling's characters, and kind of just ran with it. With those, I created something that I'm pretty happy with and am eager to show the world.

I drew inspiration from a variety of adaptations and reinterpretations (beyond the novel itself, of course) including the 1995 BBC mini-series starring Jennifer Ehle and Colin Firth, the 2005 movie starring Keira Knightly and Matthew McFadyen, Helen Fielding's _Bridget Jones's Diary_, and the newest P&P adaptation called _The Lizzie Bennet Diaries_ featured on YouTube (amazing—please head on over and take a look). Neither of these I own.

The songs used in this chapter are, in order, as follows: _Dazz_ by Brick and _Hey Sexy Lady_ by Shaggy.

* * *

"_You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you will silence me on this subject forever._" – Fitzwilliam Darcy, Pride & Prejudice (1813)

Resting comfortably against an old oak tree, Hermione was pulled out of the depths of her novel by the sound of water splashing somewhere to her right. She lowered the book, one of her favourites, looking to see what had caused the sound and saw a paddling of ducks splashing around, seemingly set out to enjoy the gorgeous day as much as she had.

She rested her head against the trunk of the tree and watched the birds play, letting her mind wander, where it rested on the last scene she'd read in her novel before she was disrupted—Darcy's second marriage proposal to Elizabeth Bennett. Hermione smiled wistfully, feeling a sense of longing lodge itself in her gut. Oh, to find that one perfect person you are meant to be with and live out the rest of your days in happiness and love. What an extraordinary thought.

She was, however, quickly pulled out of her romantic notions by the feel of a buzzing against her thigh that was tickling her slightly. Her wand, the source of the buzzing, stopped vibrating just as she reached for it, having fulfilled its intended purpose.

She stood and let out a long stretch, reaching up towards the sky before taking a deep breath as she once again surveyed her surroundings. It truly was a beautiful spot that they'd found, right along the edge of a wide river. With it being early May, everything was green and fresh, and the sun was still set fairly high in the sky. Not wanting to leave but knowing she'd be back in this spot soon, Hermione packed away her things and Apparated to the small farm estate she'd been staying at for the past week with her colleague.

Thirty years ago the Ministry had made a command decision concerning the housing of their employees in an effort to save a little money, and Hermione had to admit it was a smart one. It was simple, really. Instead of spending money on hundreds of hotel rooms each year for business trips and meetings in locations outside of London, they'd bought properties all throughout the country, in most of the larger cities in Europe and America, and had their employees stay there instead. As she passed through the wards and walked towards their assigned house, Hermione was not only very happy with the decision as she absolutely adored where they were staying, but knew that the Ministry had been able to save many galleons in the past three decades, allowing them to allocate it elsewhere.

The house that they were currently staying in, and had been for the past week, was a small barnyard-type structure in the countryside near Hertfordshire. The house had a very warm lived-in feel that extended beyond the Ministry's furnishings. Hermione relished the little details that gave proof to the fact that a family had once lived here, from the small scratches in the wall as if from a child's pencil, to the creaks in the floorboard.

The house only had three bedrooms, however, so she knew it couldn't have been a very large family. But with the spacious living room and dining area, she could see how they'd made do. As Hermione walked towards the house, she glanced in on the windows to the living room and noted the empty sofas before walking inside, making her way through the dining room where she smiled at the aged piano and up the staircase where she would surely find her colleague getting ready for what the evening had in store for them.

"Millie! Millie, are you up here?" Hermione yelled as she walked up the stairs. Just as she reached the top landing she heard an irritated response.

"Oh, shut it, you twit. You know I hate it when you call me that," Millicent chastised as she filled a small tote bag that was sitting on her bed, though she let a small smile escape as she shook her head in exasperation.

"I know," Hermione said with a smile of her own as she wandered into the room. "Have you packed the food?"

"Yeah," Millicent grunted as she reached under her bed for her shoes. "It's all in the kitchen. How was your afternoon?"

"It was lovely. Thank you so much for letting me take that time. I've been dying to explore the village since we arrived here," Hermione replied as she went to grab the books on top of the desk beside the door. "I wandered around for a couple of hours before perching under an old oak tree by the river. Enchanting. All of it."

"Thanks," Millicent said as Hermione deposited the books on the bed. "Enchanting?" she remarked with a side-ways glance towards her friend, a small smirk playing on her lips.

Hermione rolled her eyes but laughed nonetheless. "Yes, Millie. Enchanting. I'll go grab my stuff out of my room and meet you downstairs."

"All right."

Hermione smiled to herself as she walked down the hall towards her room at the end. Out of all the people she spent time with and considered friends, Millicent Bulstrode was without a doubt the most surprising. The war had changed her; had changed them all, really. Once the terrorizing girl that had put her into a headlock in second year, she had grown into a very wise and strong woman whom Hermione considered one of her dearest friends.

After her father died in the battle fighting for Voldemort, Millie finally escaped the clutches of her family and started her life fresh, fighting for her innocence along the way. Hermione, along with Ron and Harry, had seen Millicent fight for the Light in the battle and spoke on her behalf during the trials, but it wasn't until Millicent was freed of her past and had started working at the Ministry in her department that Hermione actually got to know her.

It was during that time that Hermione had discovered Millicent had an older brother that had died by Voldemort's hand during Hermione's sixth year. To test Senior Bulstrode's allegiance, Voldemort had told him to sacrifice his son for their cause, telling him that Rewan would only be saved if he followed the Dark Lord's orders. Oblivious as to why his father was sending him to some dingy mansion in northern England, Rewan discovered upon entering the property and being stripped of his wand that he would only make it out alive if he raped and then murdered a young Muggle-born girl. He'd refused to do so and had paid for it dearly.

Millicent's father had made a clear choice that night. Her brother was innocent of any and all crime.

Millie had learned of the heinous crime a week later after asking her father whether he'd heard from Rewan as he wasn't answering her owls. The words _necessary_ and _cause_ had been thrown around, but it was in the moment that he'd uttered _sacrifice_ that her father had lost his daughter forever.

Not yet able to run away, Millie suffered her father's abusive and psychopathic nature for another year and a half before she was able to break free and fight against him and his cause in the Great Battle.

It had taken her and Hermione at least three months before they'd become friendly, but they had found camaraderie in each other. They worked well together, Hermione thought as she grabbed the few small items off of the desk in her room and placed them inside her bag. She had done most of her packing that morning and had to grab only a few odds and ends around the room. Hermione's quick wit matched well with Millicent's callous one, but it was in their differences that they were strongest together. Hermione's research and study led them in the right direction but it was Millie's cunning nature that usually got them the results.

She was still very much a Slytherin at heart, after all.

Hermione tied up her beaded bag and headed downstairs, already able to hear Millicent roaming around the house gathering the supplies needed for that night.

The night before, Hermione had packed up everything and cleaned throughout the house, planning to leave after the operation and not have to worry about anything. There weren't many supplies needed for use, so by the time Hermione reached the living room after having grabbed the food out of the kitchen, Millie had finished and had just placed the last item inside her bag.

"Ready?" Hermione asked, looking around the house, a little sad that they had to leave it so soon. It had a charming and endearing quality that she hadn't quite gotten her fill of yet.

Millicent looked up and smiled. "Yeah, let's go. I'll get the wards."

As they left the house and walked towards the edge of the property, Millicent threw up protective spells and anti-Muggle enchantments while Hermione looked back upon it wistfully. She smiled at the charming abode that they had called home for the past week, feeling Millie's arm wrap around her shoulder and steer her away from the house.

"Come on, droopy eyes. We have a job to do and we have to set-up. It won't be long before the Mooncalves come out," she said, smirking at Hermione's sigh. "It was a nice house, though, wasn't it? I particularly enjoyed that outdoor swing."

Hermione grinned. "Yeah," she said to her friend. "I liked it too."

o-o-o

Due to their scouting earlier in the week, they were easily able to locate a plot of land by the river that was hidden from view but also easy to access. It was crucial they not be seen. Mooncalves only came out once a month under the full moon and they were unlikely to appear if they sensed any threat or presence in the surrounding area. Especially by humans.

Millicent and Hermione were selected specially for the task that they would undertake tonight. They both worked in the Medial Potions Division at the Ministry, but each had their own pursuits and strengths. Millie was strong in the ingredients component, often working alongside Neville in Herbology. Hermione worked to maintain the safety of the magical beasts whose components were needed for certain potions, be it Billywig wings or Moke skin.

Neville had been invited to participate in their task tonight, but was called away with his wife in the Andes, trying to locate some rare herb that could be useful in Wolfsbane potion. Luna Longbottom née Lovegood was only too happy to accompany her husband on these trips, and was often quite handy, to Hermione's great surprise, when they encountered such magical creatures that weren't entirely known to exist but that Xenophilius had been teaching to his daughter her entire life.

Thankfully, there wasn't a pressing need for Neville tonight, as all Hermione and Millicent needed to do was collect the dung from the Mooncalves and preserve it before the sun rose. The stocks at the Ministry were running quite low and it was exceedingly useful in growing the herbs, making them grow twice their size and just as quickly.

It was a simple task that they were happy to complete, especially since they were given the extra time. Really, they'd only needed a day to prepare the supplies and find a spot to reside for the night, but their supervisor, Bletchley, had given them a week, insisting that they think of it as a working vacation.

Neither woman complained.

"So, did you get the invite for the Ministry Ball?" Millicent asked as she took out the two blankets from her tote bag, shook them, and laid them both down on the grass.

"Of course," Hermione replied with an exasperated tone. "And with all the post-war propaganda they put on my invite, they might as well have said 'You are required to attend the Ministry Ball' and taken out the _cordially invited_ bit all together."

Millicent sniggered. "Well, you are the Golden Girl. Can't have a 'Hoora-Voldemort's-Dead-And-The-Wizarding-World-Is-Prospering' party without you."

"Harry's was worse," Hermione huffed as she began taking dishes out of the basket that Millie had prepared earlier and placing them on the blankets. "They actually did take out the _cordially invited_ part and asked instead if he would bestow upon them the _honour_ of his appearance, rattling on about his important role in the War and how they took such time and effort to organise the event. They'd actually used _Savior of the Wizarding World_ three times in the one-page invite. It was ridiculous."

"I'm still reeling over the ball part. You know it'll be open bar and Lee Jordan is DJ'ing, right?"

Hermione nodded. "The title is just a less than subtle cover for an over-the-top party with over-the-top decorations, and everyone is invited."

As Millie took out the supplies needed that night from her bag and set them, lined up, on top of the two blankets, Hermione stood up and cast silencing, imperturbable, and warming charms on the area, making them both silent and invisible from the outside viewer.

Now satisfied that they would not be noticed, they talked, ate, and waited as the sun slowly drifted down and revealed the bright full moon.

o-o-o

They'd been waiting almost three hours before Hermione spotted the first one and pointed it out to the woman by her side.

"There it is!" she whispered excitedly. Since the task was so menial, she was almost never called upon to partake in it, which was something she decided she absolutely hated as she watched, mesmerised, at the small and lithe creature dance upon the clearing, its pale skin almost glowing in the moonlight. The bravery of the first inspired three others to come out from their burrows and join in on the tradition.

It was a beautiful thing to witness.

Their spindly legs hopped and jumped, twirling and spinning across the clearing, cutting across the grass quickly and gracefully. She could see the indents they left in the field, clear-cut circular lines, neither stepping outside of it, all seven of them now keeping to the geometric pattern created.

"Amazing, aren't they?" she heard Millie whisper.

It was in moments like these that Hermione appreciated what life had set in store for her, allowing for the both of them to grow and find friendship in each other. Ten years ago, Millicent would have scoffed at the sight before her. And for Hermione's part, she would have had a hard-pressed time standing up for anyone from Slytherin house in front of the Wizengamot prior to the war. It had, indeed, changed them all.

"Yeah."

o-o-o

Knowing the Mooncalves would have danced until just before daybreak, thus leaving the two women little time to gather the dung and preserve it properly, Hermione and Millicent made themselves known at 3:30 am by removing the charms surrounding their area, alerting the creatures and sending them off scurrying. Hermione quickly donned the rubber gloves and grabbed a container before hurrying to the clearing and magically scooping the dung off of the grass and levitating it into the container with her wand. She heard Millie's heavy footsteps behind her doing the same thing.

Fifteen minutes later, they had six full containers of Mooncalf dung and set about preserving it, something that was absolutely necessary if they wanted the fertilizing effect to remain potent past sunrise. Millie unstoppered a clear liquid and squeezed four drops of it into each container.

Using her wand to set the six spoons to start mixing the liquid throughout the contents, she watched satisfactorily as the dung slowly became free of any grass and dirt that had tainted it. The clear liquid, Hermione knew, was Millie's creation and was used to free the contents it was mixed with of any debris.

"Brilliant," Hermione stated as she looked into each container of dung, no longer seeing any grass, leaves, or dirt.

"Thanks," Millie said with a small smile. It had taken her six months to concoct the solution, finally having found the perfect mix of ingredients that would free its intended contents of any and all debris whilst not vanishing it all together. Hermione still remembered the first few tries in which the not-yet-ready potion would not only _not_ eliminate the contents of dirt, but would multiply said dirt and debris for the next hour. Then there was of course the batch that made everything in a two-foot radius invisible for four hours. Hermione had unfortunately been standing beside Millie when that particular batch was being tested. She did have to admit, however, that she thoroughly enjoyed teasing Ron while invisible.

Millie had worked so hard on the current and successful batch, using it as another notch on her belt as to the reasons why she deserved to stay a free individual in the wizarding world. Not only did her mother disown her after Millie fought for the Light, leaving her penniless, but society was still suspicious of her, a girl who had once surrounded herself with Death Eaters, even after she'd spent years proving herself otherwise. It would be a long time before children of Death Eaters, like Millie, would be able to dig themselves out of the holes their families had left them to rot in.

It'd been discovered only in the past few years that the only way to preserve Mooncalf dung was to dip it in preserving solution and then divide it into small sections and flash freeze it. Wizards for centuries prior had not been so lucky, needing to collect the dung, rid it of any debris, and then quickly spread it across their garden of herbs and plants before the sun rose.

Needless to say, it was a painstaking process.

Hermione quickly unscrewed the cap of the preserving solution that had been previously set on the blanket and poured all of it, which was quite a bit, into two large glass jars. Then, using her wand, she levitated the dung out of one of the containers and dipped it into the solution before slicing it up into eighteen equal sections and setting it on the clear plastic board set to the side. She continued this process with two more jars while Millicent did the same to the last three.

Finally, with the wave of their wands they flash froze the pieces and packed them up. Hermione vanished the used preserving solutions while Millie shrunk the rest of supplies. Just as the sun was starting to rise, they packed away everything in sight and Apparated back to the Ministry.

o-o-o

"Miss Granger!"

Hermione turned around at the sound of her boss's voice and saw him toddling towards her, his hair piece bobbing slightly. Mr. Bletchley was a portly man with an easy smile and a friendly nature. Hermione was happy to work under him as he was always easygoing and very fair.

"Everything went well, I presume?" he asked with an eager expression.

"Yes, sir. We managed to procure and preserve one-hundred and eight pieces. They're in the freezer."

"Excellent! That will last at least eight months, Miss Granger. I trust your time off was pleasant?"

"Yes, sir, it was. Thank you so much."

"Not a problem, though you are here a tad early."

"I am, yes. I wanted to catch a friend for lunch."

Since she and Millicent had been up since five am that morning with their task, Bletchley had allowed them the chance to catch up on their sleep and to come in just after the lunch break. She'd wanted to grab Harry and Ron for lunch, however, since she hadn't seen them all week.

"Not a problem. Oh." Bletchley paused as an Interdepartmental memo zoomed through the hallway and perched itself on his shoulder. As he read it, his relaxed expression quickly turned into one of exasperation before he addressed her again. "Bugger, I've got to deal with this. I trust you've received your invitation for the ball this Friday, yes?" he asked as he turned away and began heading towards the direction from which they came.

"Yes, sir, I did!" Hermione yelled towards his quickly retreating direction. "Thank you, sir!"

"Not a problem!" he replied with a wave before turning a corner.

Hermione huffed an amused laugh before continuing on to Ron's office.

o-o-o

"Fancy taking a girl out to lunch?"

Harry looked up from his desk to see one of his best friends standing in his doorway with a smile on her face. "Hermione! You're back," he responded with a smile. "How was your trip?"

"Fine. Fine. Millie and I procured enough to last a while, so Bletchley's happy. I just popped in to see if you'd wanted to grab something to eat."

"Absolutely, yeah. Shall we go up and see if Ron wants to come along as well?" Harry asked as he grabbed his coat from the hanger and shrugged it on, locking his office before they walked off down the hall.

"I'd already been; said he's already agreed to meet Katie. He promised tomorrow."

Harry nodded his head in understanding and held out his arm as soon as they'd reached the Apparition point. Hermione took it and together they Apparated to a café in Diagon Alley called the Rose & Crown. The outside wasn't much to look at—quite honestly the inside didn't have much to admire either—but the food was fantastic. The place had the sort of rugged charm that Hermione enjoyed sharing with her boys.

"How's work?" she asked as soon as they'd sat down. "I barely even see you anymore."

"I know. The life of an Auror, I'm afraid. It's been good, just a little hectic. We got a couple of leads, just trying to work out the logistics of the next mission."

"Mmm. I just hope you aren't gone too long."

"Yeah, me too. They're never easy."

"I got a letter from Ginny," Hermione said tentatively, carefully judging Harry's reaction. He paused a second while lifting his hand to take a sip of his soup, but played it off around a casual "Yeah?"

"Yeah. She said she's doing well. She'll be at the ball."

He nodded once. "I'll be glad to see her."

o-o-o

With Ginny out of town, Hermione hadn't been able to employ her most trusty shopping buddy on her mission to find something perfect to wear at the ball, so as she stood in front of the mirror in her bedroom, she hoped she'd picked a winner.

She'd chosen a silver floor-length satin gown that flowed easily. It had a modest v-neckline and thin straps that went over her shoulders simply, making her the picture of decorum from the front. As she turned around, however, her entire back was exposed as the fabric of the dress started just above her rump, leaving her feeling decadent and incredibly sexy. As she walked over to the closet to put on the four-inch silver sandals she'd also purchased for the occasion, she could feel the satin flow against her skin like water; the dress making her movements feel fluid and graceful.

She and Millie had agreed to go to the ball together, so after fastening her shoes and grabbing her clutch, Hermione took ahold a handful of Floo powder, stepped into her fireplace, and shouted out her destination.

"Millie!" she shouted as she climbed out of the grate and dusted herself off. "I'm here!"

She heard a muffled reply come from a room to her right that steadily grew louder as she walked towards the sound. "…up. Come inside."

Hermione entered Millie's bedroom and gasped upon what she saw. "Millie! You look fantastic!"

Her friend was slightly bent over towards the mirror, putting in her earrings when she looked back at Hermione. "Yeah?" At Hermione's nod, she smiled and said her thanks, taking note of her outfit as well. "I must say, Granger, you look very beautiful. All the boys will be in a tizzy."

"Oh, shut up," Hermione replied, a slight blush creeping upon her cheeks. "We should be going soon, it's already started."

"All right, let me just grab my purse," Millie rushed out as she downed the rest of her wine that was sitting on the end table and grabbed her purse that was sitting on her bed. "Let's go get this humiliation over with."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Come on, you."

With a loud crack, both Millicent and Hermione Disapparated to just outside the gate of the War Memorial Centre, a structure created just after the fall of Voldemort. The multi-purpose building had a massive memorial room with a connecting bookstore, a multiple-purpose classroom, a small dormitory complete with kitchens, a conference room, and a massive ballroom for such events as these.

Hermione appreciated the value and meaning of the structure, but had not visited it often in the last five years. She felt that the memorial glorified the war to a nauseating extent. The war was not glorious, the final battle not great, and she was not noble. She'd certainly never felt like a war-hero, a term that had been applied too liberally since Harry defeated Voldemort. He was a war-hero, she thought. Snape, Dumbledore, Lupin; they were all war-heroes. She was a just a person that had had the ability to help her friend defeat an extraordinarily dark wizard and was luckily not killed in the process.

But she took a deep breath and braced herself for the evening to come and followed Millie into the vast building.

She followed the other guests around the front of the building towards the entrance that was on the right-hand side near the back. Upon entering the giant, wooden double doors, her breath caught and her eyes widened at the beauty of the room; the detail of the decorations.

As she looked around the vast room, the first thing she noted was the colours—gold, bronze, black and silver; all the secondary colors of the four houses at Hogwarts, neither overwhelming the other. They interwove with each other; golden drapes with an intricate bronze design and black trim cascaded across the walls, silver cords hanging down between them. The domed ceiling was intricately carved in a hexagonal design, leading up to a massive golden and bronze chandelier hanging by black cords with bits of silver shining through.

The room was circular in shape with a humongous dance floor taking up a large portion of it, a few chairs and tables littered throughout the room on the outer edges. Clearly the Ministry designed the evening with the purpose that everyone mingle. A few appetizers would be handed out throughout the evening, but nothing that would dictate a full sit-down dinner.

There were two bars on opposite walls. At the front of the room stood a large stage that currently housed Lee Jordan who would be DJ for the night. He was currently playing what sounded like _Dazz_, a song by a Muggle band called Brick that Hermione had seen in a film once, though she couldn't remember which one at the moment. Muggle music had gradually become more and more popular in the last couple of years as the result of wizards branching out and discovering that they actually liked what they heard.

Millie rolled her eyes at her friend's gaping mouth and wide eyes and dragged her further inside the room, taking them towards the bar on the left. "Two Firewhiskys, please," she called out to the bartender.

Hermione spun her head towards her friend. "What? We just got here!" she exclaimed, having expected a calm starter…like a nice Chardonnay. Not two minutes inside the door and they were already throwing back shots?

"Yeah, and you need to calm down. You've been a bundle of nerves since before we even left. And stop fidgeting, for crying out loud."

Hermione suddenly stilled, just having realised that she was fiddling nervously with her wand, causing red sparks to fly out the end. "I'm sorry! I just hate coming to these things."

"As do I," Millicent responded as she handed Hermione a shot glass filled with amber liquid. "Now drink up."

o-o-o

Quickly having come to the realisation that perhaps she should have eaten something first, Hermione left Millie at the bar in search for appetizers. She'd seen some being circulated around by waiters dressed in black earlier and was sifting through the crowd trying to find one now, exchanging brief pleasantries with whoever she encountered along her way.

She was just in the middle of asking how Padma's new robes shop was doing when she spotted appetizers drifting her way. "Ah! Thank goodness. Sorry, Padma. I've just spotted the food and am starving," she said as she excused herself and stopped the waiter, piling her napkin full of salami-wrapped cream cheese and mini quiches. Divine, really.

"Leave some for the rest of us, will you?"

She whipped around at the sound of her ex's voice. "Ron!" she exclaimed, giving him a hug while trying to not squish her newly-acquired snacks. "I'm just a little hungry, is all. You look great." She stood back to admire him. He had, thankfully, not come in ancient frilly dress robes, but something rather dashing in a crisp black.

"Thanks," he replied with an easy grin. "You look great, too. That dress is brilliant."

She thanked him with a quick kiss on the cheek before glancing around. "Where's Katie?"

"At home, she just came back from Bulgaria and wanted to rest. She's a little sad too, with that being her last game and all. She won't be able to play again or go on another tournament for another year, at least."

Hermione looked knowingly at her friend. "Are you excited?"

A small blush crept up on Ron's cheeks and he gave a slight smile. "Sorta, yeah. I can't wait to see my son."

"Oh, Ron. I'm so happy for you!" Hermione replied, giving her best friend another hug. "You two will be wonderful parents, raising a little Quidditch star, no doubt."

"I can only hope," he said, giving her a toothy grin. He grabbed one of the quiches off of her napkin and plopped it in his mouth before she could protest. "Come on, let's go find Harry."

Following Ron, she walked through the crowd, her hips shaking slightly to the beat of _Hey Sexy Lady_ by Shaggy currently playing in the background, unknowingly attracting attention from a certain blond Slytherin standing by the bar at the opposite end.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

The Mooncalf is a J.K. Rowling created creature, featured in _Fantastic Beasts & Where to Find Them_. Their section, page 29, reads as follows: "Mooncalf. M.O.M. Classification: XX. The mooncalf is an intensely shy creature that emerges from its burrow only at the full moon. Its body is smooth and pale grey, it has bulging round eyes on top of its head, and four spindly legs with enormous feet. Mooncalves perform complicated dances on their hind leg in isolated areas in the moonlight. These are believed to be a prelude to mating (and often leave intricate geometric patterns behind in wheat fields, to the great puzzlement of Muggles. Watching Mooncalves dance by moonlight is a fascinating experience and often profitable, for if their silvery dung is collected before the sun rises and spread upon magical herb and flower beds, the plants will grow very fast and become extremely strong. Mooncalves are found worldwide." I kept her creature as true to the book as possible, only changing the preservation of the dung bit.

The Rose & Crown is the name of the inn that Lizzie stays at with Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner in the 2005 movie, so I borrowed the name for a restaurant that Hermione frequents. I also borrowed the landscaping and the Bennet house from the movie for where Hermione and Millie are staying at the beginning of the chapter.

"What an extraordinary thought" is borrowed from _The Holiday_ in which Kate Winslet's character, Iris, speaks it in the beginning of the movie.

Thank you so much for reading! I'm excited to see what you think of this story so far, so please review. Authors really, really, really enjoy and appreciate them.

Just a quick note, this story has already mostly been written. I'll be posting one chapter every Friday until its close in order to give people time to read.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **Thanks for staying with me this far! I know it's a slow start, but sometimes that's how love is—sometimes it can happen quickly and unexpectedly with a simple gaze across a crowded room, and sometimes it doesn't appear immediately. Sometimes it's a slow burn that sneaks up on you.

Enjoy!

Songs in this chapter are, in order (kind of), as follows: _Suavamente_ by Elvis Crespo, a remix of _Stayin' Alive_ by N-Trance (circa '96), and Marvin Gaye's _Got to Give it Up pt. 2_.

* * *

**Previously:**

"Come on, let's go find Harry."

Following Ron, she walked through the crowd, her hips shaking slightly to the beat of _Hey Sexy Lady_ by Shaggy currently playing in the background, unknowingly attracting attention from a certain blond Slytherin standing by the bar at the opposite end.

* * *

"Draco!"

Draco Malfoy turned to his right upon hearing his name and was overcome by a warm embrace and the strong smell of gardenias. He smiled softly as he tucked an arm around her small frame and gave a light squeeze.

"Hey," he said to Pansy before he knocked back another shot of his Firewhisky.

"Oh, Draco. Already?" the raven-haired woman asked as she watched him set down the shot, eyeing the four empty glasses already on the counter with concern.

"Yes," he said with quiet conviction. "You just get here?"

"Yeah," she replied, taking the latest shot the bartender poured out from under Draco's grasp and knocking it back for him. "Came with Daphne and Blaise. They're mingling with the Minster."

She nodded her head to her right towards the entrance and Draco followed her line of sight, spying the eldest Greengrass and her fiancé talking animatedly with Kingsley Shacklebolt. The two had dated casually throughout their years at Hogwarts but became more exclusive after the Second War and had only gotten engaged recently. Blaise looked up and spotted Draco's stare, giving a brief nod to which Draco returned before turning back towards Daphne and Shacklebolt.

"Where's Astoria?" Draco asked, not seeing the youngest Greengrass anywhere.

"She's in Cairo with Adrian," Pansy replied as she waved her arm flippantly, "researching Egyptian curses or something like that; won't be back for another couple of months, I suppose."

Draco knew that the youngest Greengrass and Pucey, his old housemate, worked together at Gringotts as apprentice curse-breakers. They were more than just work partners, however, from what Draco had heard if Pansy's gossip had any merit to it, which, from past experience, he had no doubt did.

He hummed non-committedly in response.

"Why?" Pansy asked, slowly turning towards him with a raised eyebrow.

Draco looked at her and with a small shake of his head denied any thoughts she might have been having. "No," he said in warning. "Not interested."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Oh, fine. But what about someone else?" At his indelicate snort, she exploded in exasperation. "Oh, come on, Draco! It's been six years since we've broken up and you've barely had a relationship since then that's lasted beyond two weeks!"

All Draco could do was shrug. He had heard the speech plenty of times before and not just from her. His mother regularly hounded him on the subject, although she was of course more worried about grandchildren to spoil than anything else.

"How about Penny Waterleek? She's an Obliviator at the Ministry. A year ahead of us at Hogwarts."

"Wasn't she the one caught shagging Carmichael in fourth year?"

"Yeah," Pansy snorted around her Butterbeer. "Snape gave them a month's detention for daring to fornicate in his office. And on his desk, no less."

Draco grimaced. "No thanks."

Pansy sighed. "All right. Oh! How about that Ravenclaw that dated that uptight Weasley. Clearwater, I think her name was?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Still dating. I saw them together at Flourish & Blotts a couple of weeks ago."

"Oh," Pansy said as she sighed resignedly. "Okay, well how about a girl here?" She looked over her shoulder, scanning the crowd, her left hand lightly tapping to the beat of some Muggle tune Draco didn't recognise. It was clearly a song that inspired dancing, judging by the subtle way in which Pansy was unconsciously moving her hips in her seat. He could distinctly hear the words _staying alive_ being repeated.

Those fingers that were tapping to the beat suddenly lifted and slapped him across the arm. "How about that girl," Pansy said excitedly, pointing towards a tall girl with her back to them standing at the other end of the room, her straight, brunette hair swinging as she chatted away with the group of girls she was standing with.

Draco squinted slightly to try and see who his friend was pointing to and then started chuckling when the girl turned slightly to her left, revealing her face to him. "I don't think Percy Weasley would appreciate me going after her."

"Why?" Pansy asked, her eyebrows turned upwards in obvious confusion, still trying to discern who the girl was.

"Because that's Penelope Clearwater."

"Oh. Shit," she responded, giggling slightly. "Well then what about the one she's talking to? The blonde."

Draco shook his head. "Forget it, love. I've already scanned the crowd and haven't seen anyone worth interest."

Of course, the sly glance towards the middle of the dance floor in which a pretty, curly-haired brunette in a slinky silver dress was dancing to the beat with a familiar red-haired man told differently. Draco eyed the Weasley's hands on her hips with a slightly raised eyebrow before turning back to his companion. It appears she and the Weasel were still together. He wasn't surprised.

"Oh, you're hopeless," Pansy said with a sigh just as Daphne Greengrass and Blaise Zabini joined them at the bar.

"Who's hopeless?" Daphne asked as Blaise ordered them two cold butterbeers.

"Draco," Pansy replied. "He's convinced that no girl here is worth the trouble, even though I've reminded him that he hasn't had any form of a relationship with a girl in Merlin knows how long."

"Don't you get lonely, Draco?" Daphne asked him, never one to beat around the bush. "Surely at least once in a while. Do you want me to set you up with somebody? I know a couple of girls at work."

Draco declined the offer with a slight grimace, not even remotely interested in the daft bints that work at _Witch Weekly_.

"Leave the old boy alone," Blaise interjected, putting an arm around Daphne's waist. "He's got enough on his plate without you lot trying to constantly fix him up. Come on, sweets. Let's dance." With that, Blaise gulped down the rest of his drink and dragged his fiancé out to the dance floor, just as _Suavamente _by Elvis Crespo started, the Latin beat easily influencing their sensual movements.

o-o-o

_Ten Minutes Earlier_

"Hermione! Oh, my God, you look fantastic!" Ginny screeched upon seeing her oldest girlfriend, running up to give her a giant bear hug. "That dress is incredible!"

"Thank you," Hermione replied with a slight blush. She'd never been comfortable with compliments about her looks. Brains and intelligence, yes. Beauty, however, was something she'd never felt she possessed and didn't know how to react when complimented on it.

"You look beautiful as well, Gin," Hermione said, standing back to admire her. Ginny had chosen a short, black asymmetric dress with a sweetheart neckline. The waist was fitted but the skirt flowed out and upon closer look, Hermione realised that the gold design on the dress were not just lines, but branches. Overall, it was absolutely beautiful and hauntingly romantic.

"Thank you," Ginny replied with a slight tilt of her head, a grin spreading across her face. "Where's Millicent?"

"I left her at the bar in search for food."

"Yeah, she was scarfing down appetizers when I found her," Ron said, flashing Hermione his goofy smile.

With the back of her hand, Hermione slapped his chest. "Oh, be quiet, you. When did you get here, Gin?"

"About half an hour ago with Megan. She went off with Seamus though," Ginny replied, nodding her chin towards the dance floor where Hermione could see Megan Jones and Seamus Finnigan dancing together. Megan and Ginny had joined the Tornados together four years earlier. After their keeper, Merwyn Fenwick, retired, they became the only two girls on the team and had therefore formed a close friendship. Megan had met Seamus the year before when he'd been refereeing one of their games against the Holyhead Harpies and thus started a year-long flirt fest. They'd never actually gotten together, though, since timing seemed to be an issue between them.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at the close contact between the two. Perhaps they'll finally get together after dancing around it so long. They were, after all, finally both single.

"We were just on our way to find Harry, you want to co—Oh!" Hermione gasped, her ears perking up at the sound of a very familiar song beginning to play. It was different though, a remix obviously, but nonetheless had her itching to dance.

"Come on, Ron," Hermione yelled, grabbing her ex-boyfriend's hand and dragging him towards the dance floor before turning and yelling back at her friend. "Ginny! Let's go!"

Ginny grinned as she grabbed a passing Dean Thomas and dragged him to the dance floor with her. They had parted amicably in her fifth year at school and had remained good friends since.

Hermione led the four of them across the room, lifting her hands above her head—causing Ron to lift his one hand as well—and moving her hips to the beat along the way. Once reaching the floor, she turned around and grabbed Ron's other hand, moving his body to the beat by pulling on his hands before he finally started moving on his own, laughing all the way. She grabbed his shoulders and his hands moved to her hips, following her movements, helping him keep to the beat.

The firewhisky shots earlier definitely helped loosen her up because Hermione was soon singing along to the song she'd known since a little girl. Her father loved _Saturday Night Fever_ and would watch it constantly. It reminded him of his youth, he'd said once upon her asking. For years up until receiving her Hogwarts letter, the songs of the Bee Gees were a constant in her home.

Soon, she and Ginny were dancing alongside each other, bumping their hips to the beat and laughing with the men before Ginny went into, what Hermione thought, was a brilliant rendition of the running man. Merlin knows where she learned how to do that, Hermione thought with a laugh.

It was the most fun she'd had in a while.

At the end of the song, the four of them, thirsty and a bit sweaty, headed towards the bar where Hermione saw Harry sitting and talking with Millicent. Since becoming friends with Millie, Hermione had dragged her to countless Weasley dinners and lunches with Harry and Ron, causing a budding friendship between them as well.

Hermione came up behind them, wrapping a hand around each of them before laying her head on Harry's shoulder. Millicent smirked at her sweaty and smiling friend before sliding her own ice-cold butterbeer in front of her.

With a loud exhale, Hermione lunged for the drink, eager to quench her parched mouth. "Ah, thank you!" she exclaimed, downing the rest of the cold, frothy beverage in three big gulps before slamming the bottle back down.

"No problem," Millicent said around a chuckle, signaling the bartender for two more.

"Having fun?" Harry asked, smiling with a raised eyebrow.

Hermione grinned at her best friend. "Yes, I haven't danced in ages!" She went around and sat on the stool between him and Dean, the latter currently chatting with Hannah Abbot and Ginny.

With slightly widened eyes, Hermione realised how insensitive she was being and turned to her right. "Hey," she whispered, poking Harry on the forearm. "You okay?"

At his confused look, she nodded her head to signal the red-headed girl behind her. Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm fine, Hermione. We broke up a year and a half ago."

"Yeah," Hermione said shrugging, "but you haven't exactly seen each other a lot since then, have you? She's been away with the team and you on missions. You're sure you're all right?"

Harry laid a hand on Hermione's. "I'm fine. Don't worry," he said calmly before turning back to Millicent.

He was right, of course. They had broken things off a year and a half ago. She didn't know all of the details, but knew that the parting was due to them being apart for so long and, essentially, losing their passion and spark for each other. She also knew that they wanted and needed different things out of their relationships—much like her and Ron, who she'd split with shortly after the end of the war. They'd never really felt right as a couple. Their friendship was almost too strong to withstand a romantic relationship, leaving her with more platonic feelings towards him. He had agreed.

They were still great friends and she couldn't be happier for him and Katie.

Feeling something cold and wet nudging her arm, Hermione turned to see Millie trying to pass her the cold butterbeer she'd ordered, her arm reaching around Harry. Hermione grabbed the bottle with a smile and spun around in her stool, facing the crowd with her back resting against the bar top counter.

As her foot bobbed slightly to the music, Hermione made a promise to commend Lee later on his choice of music. Apparently his dating a Muggle was aiding in his ever expanding music library. Currently, she could see the crowd was immensely enjoying Marvin Gaye's _Got to Give it Up pt.2—_giggling when she spotted the Minister in his majestic blue robes and intimidating stature dancing with Mafalda Hopkirk, his arms raised in front of his chest and moving smoothly to the beat.

As the song ended, there was a distinct silence that overtook the crowd before a booming voice was heard.

_Suavemente, besame_

_Que quiero sentir tus labios_

_Besandome otra vez._

_Suavemente, besame_

_Que quiero sentir tus labios_

_Besandome otra vez._

Then with a "_SUAVE_!" the beat started, and Hermione watched as people all throughout the ballroom grabbed partners and danced sensually to the beat of the song.

As she watched the couples move sensually together, she felt a distinct pang of loneliness flood through her system. She recognised the feeling, even though it didn't happen often. After she and Ron split, Hermione had had a few relationships in the last few years but none that lasted long or stood out. More like flings, really. She was looking for something. She didn't know what it was exactly, but it was something _more_.

Her eyes sweeping through the crowd, she recognised a few of the couples—Megan dancing with Seamus and Terry Boot dancing with Susan Bones, among others. The couple that particularly caught her attention, however, was Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass. She remembered them fleetingly from school, both being Slytherins and therefore never having any reason for her to cross paths with. But from what she'd heard, they were recently engaged, and from what she saw, they were very much in love. Zabini was holding his fiancé with practiced ease and unrestrained passion. The smile on Greengrass's face caused Hermione's heart to pang again.

A flash of movement to the left of the couple caught her attention and her breath caught. Sitting at the end of the other bar across the room was Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy, the latter staring straight at her. There was something in his eyes that she couldn't identify before the glint within them closed off and he turned away.

It lasted little more than a second but left Hermione's heart racing and she wasn't entirely sure why.

She hadn't seen him much in the past five years since the Battle of Hogwarts, just a glimpse or two in the atrium at the Ministry and within the pages of the Daily Prophet. What she knew of him was almost even less. He had taken over his father's place as the Head of Malfoy Enterprises upon the elder Malfoy's death and donated occasionally to charities that supported the rebuilding of the wizarding world after the end of the war. That was it, really.

She nudged Harry and pointed with her eyes towards where Malfoy was sitting, causing Millicent to turn and look as well.

"I didn't think he'd be here," she heard Harry say.

"He almost didn't come but Pansy promised him serious bodily harm if he didn't show," Millicent revealed around a sip of her drink.

"You talk to her often, then?" Harry asked.

Hermione turned her head slightly to look at him, something in his voice catching her attention.

"Yeah," Millicent replied. "We have lunch a couple of times a month."

"She works at the Prophet, right?"

Millicent nodded. "Yeah. She's the Communications Director in Marketing."

"I don't think I've seen her since the final battle. Wow," Harry said in what Hermione could only be described as serenely. And before she could figure out what _that_ meant, Ron's voice boomed somewhere over her right shoulder.

"Bloody hell, what's Malfoy doing here?"

"He was invited. Minister thought with all the efforts he's put forth towards rebuilding the wizarding world after the war that he should come," Millicent explained once again.

"What efforts?" Ron asked with a grimace.

"Prophet says he's funded various charities and whatnot after the war—trying to help in an effort to repent for his past mistakes, I guess," Hermione replied with a shrug. "I don't really know the details though."

"Whatever," Ron said before turning back to the bar. He and Ginny went back to their discussion about Quidditch, leaving their friends to ponder Malfoy's past deeds.

Hermione continued staring at him, trying to imagine how the boy that had once tortured her endlessly in their years at school could possibly have grown out of his childhood prejudices and help those in need. As she eyed him, she found she couldn't picture it; not really. Sure, he had gotten older, his body matured from a skinny boy and into that of a man, but his trademark scowl was still ever present upon his face.

She turned to Harry to ask what he thought when she found that he was staring in the same direction as well, but the look in his eyes told her that he wasn't thinking about his childhood nemesis, but rather someone much more feminine. She smiled before whispering in his ear. "Why don't you go ask her to dance?"

He turned his head to look at her, a questioning expression on his face. Hermione knew he was trying to weigh the odds of how much he should let their past affect how attracted he was to her in that moment and Hermione sympathised. She didn't know Pansy, really, but had heard from Millie that she had grown out of her snobby and bigoted past and was not the same girl she once was.

"She'll probably accept," Millie said to Harry with an astute glance before turning back to the bar as well, leaving him to decide on his own.

Hermione nudged him with his arm, eventually pushing him out of his chair when he was reluctant to move. He slowly walked across the room, dodging dancing couples along the way. Hermione watched as he finally reached his destination and she let out a girlish squeak when she saw Parkinson nod her head and place her hand in Harry's after a brief tilt of her head in question.

She let out a wide smile, gesturing for Millie to look before her face froze as she realised Malfoy was staring at her again. His eyes briefly swept up and down her form in a calculating gaze before once again breaking contact and looking down at his shot of amber liquid.

Hermione didn't know why, but her heart was once again pounding, having let herself believe for a second that he was going to follow his friend's footsteps and dance with the enemy.

_He is attractive_.

She let out a relieved sigh, however, when she realised he had no intention to. He was Draco _sodding _ Malfoy, for Merlin's sake. The ferret prat of the dungeons. And no matter what sort of pathetic attempt at donating he was playing at, she knew him better. Proud, arrogant, and an all-around unbearable human being.

o-o-o

"Ugh."

Hermione slowly rolled to her side, distinctly aware of the buzzing in her ears and the dryness of her mouth. Not to mention her head felt like it was being squished out from the inside, causing her to feel dizzy and in pain.

She detested hangovers.

Slowly, with the moves that would rival a sloth, she sat up and opened her eyes to small slits before quickly shutting them again from the harsh sunlight filtering through her curtains. She tried again and was able to open her eyes wide enough to distinguish that she was in her room, alone, and judging by the light filtering through her window, it was barely past noon. She slowly turned her head to the right, reading 12:24 pm on her alarm clock, thanking the heavens for small favors.

She had plans to meet at the Burrow at two for the weekly Sunday brunch (though everyone had agreed to push it back another few hours accounting on everyone's hangovers and late nights) and thankfully hadn't slept past.

Stumbling down the hall towards the bathroom, Hermione yanked open the medicine cabinet and unstoppered the Hangover Relief potion, gulping the concoction down. The sickening taste of too-sweet chalk attacked her senses for only a second before the potion started to take effect. The feeling of a veil being lifted from her entire being left Hermione breathing a sigh of relief, her only discomfort now being a desperate need for water.

Walking into the kitchen, she located a glass from her cabinet and filled it with cold water from the tap, gulping the liquid down. Her thirst quenched, she headed back towards the bathroom for a shower, leaving the sound of brewing coffee she'd started in her wake.

Letting the steaming-hot water ease the aches in her muscles and the calming smell of orange blossoms envelope her, Hermione relaxed, letting her mind wander as it often did whilst in the shower.

She was disconcerted to find that her mind seemed dead set on wandering towards the arrogant blond.

Annoying prat.

Really, it had been _his_ fault that she'd woken up with a mind-numbing hangover.

Not to her surprise, Harry had danced with Pansy practically the whole night. If they weren't bumping up against each other on the dance floor then they were at the bar ordering drinks and cooling off. They stuck together like glue for the rest of the night, Hermione only having a chance to talk to him maybe once or twice for the rest of the evening—the most memorable with Malfoy being the cause.

Apparently at one point he'd been such a jerk that Harry had become so angry he'd had to rejoin his Gryffindor friends in order to cool down. It was during this interlude that Hermione learned of the despicable things Malfoy had said about not just anyone, but her in particular.

Really, she shouldn't have been surprised given his history as an arrogant prick, but she'd had some glimmer of hope that he'd changed. He hadn't, it seemed.

Between clenching his now empty glass of scotch on the rocks so furiously that Hermione swore he was soon to crush the thing and growling under his breath, Harry revealed to Hermione what the git had said, only after being prodded by the brunette to just spill it all ready.

"_I've known him just as long as you have, Harry, so there's really no need to spare me of his atrocious personality. Just tell me already!"_

_Harry sighed deeply and glared at the empty glass in his hand. _

_Hermione seriously worried whether the object would soon take the brunt of Harry's obvious livid energy and shatter into a thousand pieces. "Harry?"_

"_He called you plain, bothersome, undesirable, and not worth his time."_

_Hermione stilled, unable to come up with a response. She wasn't surprised at what Malfoy had said, considering the source, but she _was _a little shocked that they'd been talking about her at all. "What?" she asked._

"_Pansy was pushing for him to get away from the bar and suggested that he ask you for a dance and he, being a complete and total wanker, responded that you were plain, bothersome, undes—"_

"_Yeah," she said quickly, cutting him off. "I got that part. Then what happened?"_

"_I told him to grow up and then came over here." Harry signaled for a refill to the bartender and downed it as soon as it was poured. "I should have told him that he was an utter arse and wasn't worthy of existing, much less being able to even breathe the same air as you."_

_Hermione let out a small smile at the obvious torment her best friend was undergoing on her behalf. She was incredibly lucky to have found him and Ron all those years ago. "Harry," she said softly, placing a hand on his arm. "No, you shouldn't have and I'm glad you didn't. We're not at school anymore. These things aren't worth getting into fights over, which is what I'm quite sure would have happened had you not walked away. You're both such hotheads."_

_Harry grunted in what Hermione assumed was reluctant agreement._

"_Plus," she said as she dipped her head to get him to look at her, "I know it would have screwed up any chances you might have had with Pansy. You did the right thing. Now take a deep breath and go back over there. I know that that was not how you wanted to end things tonight with her and judging by the furtive glances she's been sending this way every four seconds I'm positive she feels the same."_

_Harry looked at her doubtfully but headed back over after she prodded him a second time._

She hadn't wanted to admit it to Harry at the time, but Malfoy's words cut her a little deeper than she would have liked. She spent the rest of the night on a mission: prove to Malfoy that she was indeed not plain, not bothersome, she was incredibly desirable, and most certainly worthy of everyone's time. Therefore she drank a little more than she should have and danced with a few more men than was proper. At least it had remained all harmless, for Millie and Ginny had kept their eyes on her and stopped her from making a complete fool out of herself.

She really did have the best of friends.

Hermione shut off the water, having scrubbed clean the remnants of her hangover, and stepped out of the shower. She had about an hour before she was to be at the Burrow and set about getting ready, heading for the fresh pot of coffee first.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Thanks for reading and please review. Authors really appreciate them. Chapter 3 will be up next Friday-the wait between chapters may seem long, but they're necessary on my end as well. I'm still fine-tuning the story and finishing up the last few chapters and the epilogue. I need the extra time :)

I once again implore everyone to check out The Lizzie Bennet Diaries on YouTube... adorable.

Thanks again for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **Yikes, the day got away from me. Here's Chapter Three! Thanks for reading again, guys :)

* * *

Hermione knocked twice before reaching down to open the door. Having attended these brunches and other events held at the Weasleys' family home for the past five years, the Burrow had become like a second home to her and she had no second thoughts about entering on her own. Not like Arthur or Molly would have minded; more like they'd chastise her for waiting outside politely when she could have very well just come inside. "Hello?" she called.

"In here, dear!" she heard Molly yell from the kitchen.

She followed the voice and the delicious smell of bacon wafting through the air to the kitchen, finding Molly at the stove and Arthur sitting at the table reading the Daily Prophet, a steaming cup of tea in front of him. She greeted them both, following it up with a kiss on Mr. Weasley's cheek and a hug from Mrs. Weasley. "That smells wonderful, Molly!"

"Thank you, dear, but it's not quite done yet."

"Not that anyone's complaining, really," Mr. Weasley said from behind his newspaper. He peeked out at her over the top and gave Hermione a wink. "Everyone woke up fairly late, didn't they?"

Mrs. Weasley shared a smile with Hermione at her husband's comment before speaking again. "Why don't you go into the sitting room until its ready, yes? Ron and Katie are already here, as are George, Harry, and Ginny."

With one last sniff of the air, Hermione left her surrogate parents and went further into the house in pursuit of her friends. The sound of feminine laughter and a deep male chuckle grew louder as she entered the room and saw both Katie and Ginny giggling uncontrollably. Katie had her head back and was holding her stomach while Ginny had plopped down onto the other half of the couch and was chuckling into the cushions, as if unable to keep herself upright with the force of her laughter. It appeared George was the source of their distress, as he was still telling his story even through his own laughter, reaching up a hand to wipe a stray tear from his eye.

"And he does it!" George exclaimed. "He goes over to Mrs. Whitwalker and plants a big one on her!"

"He did not!" Katie exclaimed, her eyes wide in disbelief.

George nodded his head, a grin threatening to split his face. "He did. I didn't think he would when I dared him—I was just joking—but he wouldn't back down. Poor woman never knew what hit her! And _then_, when he finally released her from the longest lip lock known to mankind and saw me looking at him in absolute shock and disbelief, he proceeded to add the cherry on top by slapping the old bird on the bum and walking away, whistling_ Weasley is Our King_."

Hermione started giggling at that. From what she'd heard so far, she knew there was no other person in the world George could be talking about other than Fred. She walked further into the room and sat on the couch next to Ginny, who had by now clutched her stomach in pain from the force of her laughter.

"Merlin, is that why she started ignoring Mum? And wouldn't take her up on her offers anymore of Sunday Brunch?" Ginny asked after she'd calmed down.

"That is why, little sis," George said with something akin to pride. Hermione shook her head with a grin of her own. It was always so wonderful to see George in such high spirits. It wasn't that he hadn't been, for the past couple of years, but there was always a sense of unhappiness about him that she knew would never truly go away.

Fred's death had been hard on them all, but no one felt the loss like George did.

It had taken him a long time to come to peace with the death of his twin and Hermione knew that a lot of that had to do with Angelina, who was a one of a kind woman. Which reminded her… Hermione looked around the room.

"George, where's Angelina?" she asked.

"Oh, she'll be by later. She had to chaperone one of the house teams this morning—Ravenclaw, I think."

"So, she's liking it, then?" Ginny asked. "Teaching flying?"

"Yes, she loves it."

Hermione noted the smile George always carried whenever he talked about his wife. That soft pang of loneliness hit her again, just as it had last night, and she wasn't quite sure what to do with the emotion. She was so busy trying to decipher why it was coming now all of a sudden—she'd been perfectly happy with being single for the past year—that she hadn't noticed Ginny asking her a question.

"Hermione!"

"What?" she asked, startled. "What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Ginny said with a somewhat bemused expression. "I was just asking how the decorating was coming along."

"Oh, fine. I've actually started thinking about repainting the whole place. I know I sai—"

"Come on, you lot! Food's ready." Mrs. Weasley said, poking her head in the doorway before disappearing once more. Everyone filtered out of the room and towards the kitchen, Hermione grabbing Harry's arm as he passed by.

"Was your hangover as bad as mine?" she asked an amused Harry.

He snorted. "I don't think anybody's would have been as bad as yours. Thankfully Millicent and Ginny stopped you after that sixth shooter. Who knows what else you would have gotten into?"

Hermione smiled, but she was somewhat troubled by the information that everyone else seemed to have maintained composure while she was the one that lost her head the night before. Her mind once again drifted to Malfoy.

_Plain, bothersome, undesirable, and not worth his time._

She wasn't sure why those words hurt her so much. After all, it wasn't like they were friends, was it? Absolutely not. He was just an immature prat, as he'd always been, and she resolved to push the matter behind her. She was doing perfectly fine, had been doing so for the past few years, and wouldn't let the harsh words of an inconsequential person influence her anymore.

At least she no longer had any doubt of his character. He could throw as much galleons as he could at wherever he wanted…Hermione had proof that he hadn't changed—not where it mattered, not really.

"What were you saying about your flat, Hermione?" Ginny said once they'd all sat at the table and started filling their plates.

"I'm thinking about painting it, even though I'd said before that I wouldn't. I suppose I'm just tired of white walls and want some colour."

Ginny nodded. "That makes sense. Your home should be somewhere you like to be. Will you be needing any help painting the place? I don't have a game for another month and a half or so and would love to help you out."

"Yes, I will. Thanks, Gin," Hermione said, smiling at the redhead.

"Why don't you just use magic? It'd be easier, wouldn't it?" Ron asked as he piled an alarming amount of food onto his plate.

"It would wear off over time," Mrs. Weasley stated as she passed the biscuits over to her husband.

"Exactly, and I don't fancy having muted walls in a year's time."

"Have you picked out your colours yet, dear?"

"No, not really, Molly. I do have a few ideas, but I wasn't entirely sure how to go about that, actually."

"Well, have you got some time tomorrow? I'd love to help you out. I might even be persuaded to spruce this place up a bit!"

"That sounds wonderful!" Hermione said, excited about getting this project underway. "I don't have any meetings and can probably convince Bletchley to let me work from home for a day."

"Excellent, dear! We'll make a day of it."

o-o-o

"How about this one?"

"Ooh, I like that actually," Hermione replied, eyeing the olive green that Mrs. Weasley was holding up. They'd been perusing through the colours for the past two hours and were finally on the last room, her bedroom.

Hermione had had a couple of weeks to mull over the decision to repaint her flat and therefore already had in mind which colour schemes she'd wanted for which room, but Mrs. Weasley was able to hone those ideas into something purchasable. Together they were able to successfully pick the colours that would soon become her new flat.

"I don't know when I'm going to find the time to do this. I certainly hope it's before Ginny leaves."

"Oh, don't worry about that dear. Just get everything today and then when you are ready, you'll already have the supplies."

"Very true. Thanks again, Molly, for helping me with this. Ginny and I certainly have our work cut out for us."

"Oh, don't be silly, Hermione! We'll all come to help, of course."

"Oh, no, Mrs. Weasley. That's not necessary. Really, I'm su—"

"It's already been decided, dear. There's no point in arguing."

Hermione quirked a smile and wrapped an arm around her wonderful friend and surrogate mother. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now, what do you think about this?"

Ten minutes later found them at the paint counter ordering a gallon of each. They were quickly told that it would take at least an hour and had therefore decided to wander around the store for a bit.

"Thank goodness Arthur had to work today as I don't know what I'd do if he came here," Mrs. Weasley said as she stared at the Muggle objects around her in wonder. "We'd be stuck here into next week, at least."

Hermione turned and laughed at the look of resignation on Mrs. Weasley's face over her husband's strange obsessions. She only wished she'd someday be as lucky to make fun of her own husband's weird quirks.

Someday.

o-o-o

"Well, it wasn't as bad as I'd thought," Hermione stated distractedly, looking down at the various painting supplies in her shopping cart as she rounded a corner. "And I did pick up some sandpaper for Mr. Weasley, since I know he said he'd been running ou—" Hermione paused, having finally looked up, only to see what appeared to be Mrs. Weasley getting thoroughly charmed by one of her old, smarmy schoolmates: Cormac McLaggen.

Hermione had left Mrs. Weasley alone in the lawn and garden area for a moment to go price out some various painting supplies and pick up what she'd need. She certainly hadn't expected extra and unwelcome company when she returned.

Hermione tilted her head to the side as she watched a very flustered and blushing Mrs. Weasley converse with a Cormac who was decidedly older and more debonair than Hermione remembered. He'd obviously grown, having filled out in certain pleasing areas, Hermione thought as she eyed his muscular arms. As appealing and obviously very charming as he was, however, Hermione could only see the slick git that he truly was underneath and very nearly wretched at how easily Mrs. Weasley was falling under his false charms.

In between Mrs. Weasley's giggles, Cormac glanced at Hermione from the corner of his eye and Hermione swore she saw a predatory gleam enter those green orbs of his.

_Oh, dear_.

"Hermione Granger," he purred, setting her stomach churning. She suddenly had horrid flashbacks of hours of dodging grabby hands and pursed, chapped lips.

"Oh, there you are, Hermione! I was beginning to get worried."

"You look wonderful," Cormac said as he slowly lowered his eyes down her body, pausing at crucial areas before finishing with a wink. "As ever."

"You've met? Oh, good. I was just apologizing to Mr. McLaggen here for so rudely bumping into him—we almost toppled over!"

"Nonsense, Molly. It was my fault, I assure you."

"Oh, no, please. I should have been watching where I was stepping! I was just so taken up by these gorgeous dieffenbachias. They're poisonous, though, did you know?"

_Are they? Fascinating. So is McLaggen._

"Really?" Cormac responded with a sly smile. "I hadn't realised. But it's no surprise, really. The most sinful things come in the most alluring packages. Wouldn't you agree, Hermione?"

"I suppose. The trick is to spot them right away."

Cormac didn't respond, but rather let his gaze linger on her for far longer than she was even remotely comfortable with.

"Mrs. Weasley, we should really go see if my paint is ready."

"Hmm? Oh, of course, dear. Of course. Well, Mr. McLaggen, I apologise again for the collision earlier."

"The fault was all mine, Molly."

"Oh, I do feel terrible about it. If only there was something I could do to make it up to you," Mrs. Weasley said before trailing off. There was something about her tone that made Hermione narrow her eyes in apprehension. "I know!" she said suddenly. "How about you join us for brunch next Sunday at the Burrow?"

…_Crap!_

"I would be delighted, Molly. Thank you."

_Double crap._

"Wonderful! Drop by around eleven. Everyone will be so pleased to see you again, I'm sure!"

"That's very kind of you. Now I'm sorry to say, but I'm running late. I'll see you both next week."

"Goodbye, Mr. McLaggen! It was so good to run into you," sang Mrs. Weasley.

It was a direct contrast to Hermione's feeble "Bye."

A forced set-up—for she knew what this was, even if Mrs. Weasley had been trying so hard to cover it up with polite cordialities—with Cormac McLaggen in front of at least eight of her closest friends. Joy.

o-o-o

Hermione stood outside of the door at the Burrow with trepidation. She'd been in a foul mood all week—or up until Thursday at least—and today would be the culmination of such feelings of dread. And she couldn't even keep her head straight.

She was, ill advisably for sure, entering into one forced date thinking about another man.

_Three Days Prior_

"_I'm telling you, Ginny, your mother is forcibly setting me up with that man-slag, Cormac McLaggen!"_

"_All right, fine. Even if she were, would it really be so bad?"_

"_Ginny!"_

"_What? I'm just saying you haven't been on a date, a real one, in a long time. Maybe this will be good for you."_

_Hermione grimaced. "But why him? He's ridiculous. And so vile. I was surprised my clothes didn't just spontaneously pop off by the sheer force of his lecherous stare alone. Ugh." She shivered. "It still gives me chills. And not the good sort, either."_

"_Odd, mum said he was a perfect gentleman," Ginny said, confused._

"_No, what he is, is an absolutely superb flirt and your poor mum got the pants charmed off of her." _

"_Possible. How about this?" Ginny paused in step and turned towards Hermione. "If he really is as wretched as you say on Sunday then I'll run interference, all right? I'll even get George in on it; he's been itching to prank somebody for a while anyway. But," and here she raised a finger at Hermione in warning, "if he is a perfect gentleman simply trying to court your lovely, stubborn self, then I demand you go on a proper date with him. Sound like a deal?"_

_Hermione was wary, to say the least. She had complete confidence in McLaggen's lecherous behaviour this coming Sunday, but was unsure whether Ginny would pick up on it as well. And even if she did, there's no telling whether she'd think it truly vile or just cute. An 'it's only because he likes you so much!' type of thing. She stared into the determined eyes of her best friend and sighed. "Fine. But I don't want you making any excuses for him, all right? I mean it when I say he makes me want to gag. No trying to justify his behaviour, got it?"_

"_Yes, yes. I understand."_

"_Good. Now let's hurry up and find those shoes you wanted, I have to get back to wor—oh! I'm so sorry!" Hermione exclaimed as she bumped straight into something very solid, warm, and soft. The arms, those were solid as well she noted, came up quickly to steady her and held on a little longer than necessary. She looked up and found the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. "Nott?" she asked, surprised to see her ex-schoolmate._

_Theodore Nott had been in her year at Hogwarts and a Slytherin. From what she remembered of him, he'd been quiet, studious, and utterly good-looking. It seems, she thought as gazed upon him, that that had not changed. No. He'd only gotten more attractive with age. He'd filled out, his body more muscular than when she'd seen him last, and was now sporting some facial hair. _

"_Granger," he said with a smile. "So lovely to see you again. Sorry about that, I wasn't watching where I was walking."_

"_No, it's my fault. Forgive me."_

_A loud clearing of the throat startled her and before she could apologise for her lack of manners and introduce him to Ginny, he was already doing the honours._

"_Theodore Nott. It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Weasley."_

"_Please, call me Ginny. What brings you to Diagon Alley, Mr. Nott?"_

"_Oh, no. Please, call me Theo. I'm here to run a few errands for my boss," he said as he raised his hand to indicate the two pairs of dress robes he had in his hand. "It's not the most glamorous job, but I make do. What brings you two lovely ladies here?"_

"_I dragged Hermione here to help me pick out a pair of shoes, but if you need to go," Ginny said before turning to address Hermione, "I understand. It is your lunch break, after all."_

"_I do," Hermione replied. "Sorry, Gin. These breaks go by so quickly!"_

"_Go, go. I've got it from here. You're leaving too, Theo?"_

"_Yes, I'm afraid I must deliver these. Shall I walk you out, Granger?"_

_Hermione looked up into the cerulean eyes of Theodore Nott and found herself unable to refuse. "Sure," she replied dazedly. "Bye, Gin."_

"_See you Sunday, Hermione. Bye, Theo."_

"_Goodbye, Ginny. I hope to see you again," he said before leading Hermione out the door, his hand placed boldly on her lower back. _

He'd chatted with her shortly after leading her outside before she'd had to leave to go back to work. He'd been very polite, very charming and his absolute focus on her made her blush numerous times. She had agreed quickly when he'd asked her out for coffee sometime later in the next week to catch up. Maybe it was his captivating eyes, maybe it was his easy smile, or maybe it was even his soothing tenor voice, but Hermione had not been able to get him out of her mind since their run-in.

Which was why this was a very bad idea.

Hermione took a deep breath and gave the door in front of her the courtesy knock before letting herself in. She heard chatter and clanging in the distance and figured she must be the last person to arrive. Not that that would surprise her, for she dreaded coming at all. She'd even fleetingly entertained the thought of feigning sickness and calling to inform that she couldn't even come.

She sighed resignedly as she hung her coat on the hook before stepping further into the house.

Hermione quirked an eyebrow as she walked, noticing that there wasn't so much as a scrap of paper on the floor or a speck of lint on the trinkets. This is not to say that the Weasleys were a dirty sort of people and that their home was a pigsty, but the house had always been, what Hermione liked to think of it as, affectionately disorganised—as if it simply couldn't help itself. There would always be a boot toppled over or a throw haphazardly flung across the sofa. She preferred it that way. But looking around now, Hermione noted that Mrs. Weasley must have put some serious effort into organizing the house. She felt a little sorry for whoever had been roped into helping her.

She walked into the living room and noted, with an acceptable amount of dismay, that Cormac had already arrived. Shame he hadn't been held up at work or at the strip club or wherever else he frequented.

Before Hermione could utter a single greeting, Ginny had zoomed towards her, grabbed her arm and wrenched her out into the hallway. "Ginny!" she cried, rubbing her shoulder where the fiery young redhead had almost pulled her arm out of its socket. "What on earth is going on?"

"_What_ had my mother been thinking, inviting him here?"

"We've been over this," Hermione stated matter-of-factly. "She's trying to set me up and chose the worst person possible to do it with."

"Yes! He is absolutely vile! I don't know how I'd never noticed it before!"

Hermione smirked. Finally somebody was on her side! "What happened?" she asked, a little amused over her young friend's outrage.

"He pinched my bum!"

"_WHAT?_"

"Yes! And right in front of mum, too! She didn't notice anything but George did and we've been plotting revenge ever since."

"Really?" Hermione couldn't help herself, she was intrigued. "What have you come up with so far?"

"Oh, the usual oldies. Nosebleed nougat in his tea, ton-tongue toffees as an after meal sweet… but we're not sure how far we want to go with mum and dad around."

Hermione nodded. "That sounds smart. What do you have planned for when they aren't?" She'd been hanging around the Weasleys since she was eleven years old, she knew they weren't going to let him go with a little nosebleed and call it a day.

"Well, George has been developing pranks that are meant to aid revenge against spurned lovers, and we thought we'd give it a go on ol' grabby out there."

"Really? I hadn't heard about them."

"He's been trying to keep it under wraps for the moment. The only other people who know about it are Katie and Angelina, both of whom have been helping him."

Hermione felt a smile light up her face. "And what exactly do these pranks entail?"

* * *

**Author's Note: **Thanks again for reading. Reviews are much appreciated.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: **Enjoy!

* * *

"George Weasley! Did you do this?"

Hermione looked over to George and stifled a grin at the innocent look he had on his face as he peeked precariously out from behind his mug of coffee. "Do what, mum?"

"You know very well what!

"That was rather unpleasant, wasn't it? I swear, young men simply don't know their manners these days, it would seem."

Hermione made the horrible mistake of looking across the table at Ginny and proceeded to burst into an uncustomary fit of giggles that her accomplice soon joined in on. It was apparently the tension breaker that the table had been waiting for because soon everyone was laughing uproariously, the loudest being Mr. Weasley who eventually had to take off his glasses and wipe away the tears running down his cheeks.

Even Mrs. Weasley could hardly stand it and let out a few reluctant chuckles before they too turned into great guffaws of laughter. She collapsed onto the chair and hung onto her husband as the table went into rounds. One would taper off, leaving others to calm down as well, only to start up again when someone would spontaneously laugh once more. By the end, all of their stomachs were beginning to cramp and each was red in the face.

"What was it called?" Mrs. Weasley asked as she looked at her son knowingly. Apparently the fight had left her, as it had before and would again when George decided a good prank was in order.

"Well, mum, I'm glad you asked! They're a new invention that I've been working the kinks out of for the past four months. I've decided to add them to the Skiving Snackboxes and they'll hit the shelves next week. Fruity Farties is what they're called and I have to thank Katie for that one."

Katie bowed her head in gratitude at the acknowledgement.

"Are they like candies or mints or something? I hadn't noticed you give him anything," Hermione asked, curious as to how this notorious prankster got the goods to McLaggen without her even realizing it, even though she had been watching him throughout the meal, eagerly waiting for it.

"They are," George replied as he grabbed a white tin can out of his back pocket with the name of the product across the top. "But the brilliant thing about these, the thing that I've been working the kinks out of, is that you can crush them up and add them to any beverage or sprinkle on top of any food. If it hits a hot beverage, it acts as a sweetener. When it touches food, it transforms into salt."

Hermione's eyebrows hit the roof. She knew that had to be incredibly advanced magic and had to, once again, commend the Weasley Wizard Wheezes on their talent and skill.

"Impressive or not, George, I better not see you add anything next week."

"Well, of course not, mum. I've given my secret away to the whole table, haven't I? I wouldn't try anything on this lot—at least not as early as next week."

"I'm sure you wouldn't, dear, but I meant Cormac when he comes back."

"_What?_" shouted Hermione, Ginny, and George all at once.

Molly turned back from putting the last of the dishes in the sink to see the entire table staring at her in horror. Her husband however had turned his attention back to the newspaper in front of him and she could see the amused gleam in his eye that alluded to him paying attention to more than just the latest gossip of the wizarding world. "What?"

"You invited him _back?_" Hermione asked, aghast.

"Yes, I did. I wanted to show him how a well-mannered family behaves and to apologise to him for the _unfortunate_," Molly eyed George significantly, "incident."

"But, mum!"

"But what, Ginny Weasley? Giving a guest some fruity farties and then laughing at them afterwards is no way to treat a guest and you would all do well to remember that when he comes by next Sunday."

"But he's vile!"

"Watch your mouth, Ginny! He is none of the sort. Now, if you could all scram out of here, I need to clean up the kitchen."

As they all scraped back their chairs to stand and began walking towards the living room, Molly spoke up once more. "Oh, Hermione, darling. He seemed to have taken quite a liking to you, so if you would, dear, wear something extra special next week, hmm?"

She turned back towards the sink before she could see Hermione's face form into one of absolute horror.

Hermione turned her head back and forth multiple times while sputtering like a fish, begging for any one of the people in the kitchen to rescue her because all words seemed to have left her at the most inopportune moment.

Katie, or what Hermione would probably think of her from then on as Saint Katie, smiled at Hermione and mouthed, "I got this," before walking towards Molly. "Let me help you with those, Mrs. Weasley."

She turned back around to wink at Hermione briefly, to which Hermione gave her an appreciative smile in return, before everyone else walked out and into the living room.

o-o-o

"Well?" Ginny asked as soon as Katie entered the living room and sat down at the couch with her and Hermione.

Hermione had been in a fretful mood for the past thirty minutes, waiting for Katie to walk through that archway and tell her that she was off the hook. She knew Mrs. Weasley was very stubborn and once she made a decision it was increasingly difficult to get her out of it, but Katie was just as formidable an opponent and Hermione had put her trust into her.

"Sorry," Katie said with sincere apology in her gaze.

Hermione dropped her head and groaned. "It's okay. I'm glad you tried."

"But I did manage to get you out of the date."

"The _what?_"

"Yeah, apparently she'd been planning a date to happen between you two. I didn't get all of the details but it sounded along the lines of invite you both to some location promising to be there, then just not show up so as to leave you two alone." She stopped to grin at Hermione slapping Ginny across the arm to stop the younger from laughing so hard. "Don't worry about that, though. You won't have to do that. But if for some Merlin-forbid reason she secretly hasn't given up, any place that she wants to meet you at spontaneously, just you and her, for any insurmountable time, I'd pass."

Hermione nodded, filing that away in her brain and keeping it at the forefront until she felt completely safe.

"And even though she would not budge on him coming next week, I've convinced her to not push you or him towards each other and to let it flow. So, you can wear whatever you want next week and not have to worry about impressing that sleazebag."

"Oh, thank you," Hermione said as she crushed Katie in a hug. "What can I do to show my utmost appreciation?"

Katie waved a hand flippantly. "Oh, don't worry about it. Now, Ginny's told me you ran right into a very handsome wizard the other day," she said with an excited smile that caused Hermione to blush. "Tell me all about it!"

o-o-o

"Vile."

"There has to be a—"

"Vile."

You can't think of any oth—"

"Vile."

"Hermione!"

"What? You asked me to describe him and I did. It's not my fault you're not taking my word for it. The man is vile, I tell you."

"There was once a time when that was how you thought of me."

"I never thought the word _vile_ when I thought of you. Your cat, maybe, but never you. I merely thought you were aggressive and abnormally strong."

"Watch it, Granger, or I'll put you in another headlock."

Hermione laughed as she took a sip of her pumpkin juice. She and Millie were at the Rose & Crown and she'd just been describing the horrendous Sunday brunch that she'd had to endure two days before. Unfortunately, Millie was taking a note from Ginny in not immediately believing her about McLaggen's atrocious personality. Since the only way Ginny discovered the truth was for Cormac to pinch her bum in front of her family, Hermione had no idea what McLaggen had to do to convince Millie.

"He flirted unabashedly with Mrs. Weasley in order to get what he wanted, leered at me while dropping not-so-subtle hints of sexual innuendo in front of Mrs. Weasley to, again, try and get what he wanted, pinched Ginny's backside in front of her mother and brothers, talked down George about his shop, paid an alarming amount of disrespect to Mr. Weasley while in his own house, went on and _on_ about his new role in the family business and waxed poetry about how much money he's soon to make, and still you think well of him?" Hermione asked incredulously.

Millicent sighed. "Look, you know I love you and I would be there for you whenever you asked me to, so just hear me out, okay? All I'm saying is that I think you judge people too harshly and too quickly." At Hermione's outraged expression, Millicent put up a hand to stop her outburst. "I don't doubt your word. I'm sure he did behave abominably at the Burrow. I have no doubt that he did leer at you disgustingly in the middle of the greenhouse at the hardware store and felt up Ginny in front of her family. But he's wealthy, Hermione. He's used to getting everything he wants. He grew up in a different way than you and the Weasleys and unfortunately he has not learned that that type of behaviour is not acceptable in social situations."

"How can you be so calm about it?" Hermione asked in disbelief.

Millicent smiled as she looked at her friend's earnest and confused face. Millicent was quite sure that Hermione sometimes forgot where she came from. "Because we come from the same stock. Because I've known people like him my whole life. I grew up around them; I ate dinner with them and played with their children. The only difference between McLaggen's family and mine is that his stayed neutral throughout the war and mine chose the wrong side."

"Millie…"

"We're all messed up a little, Hermione. Some are able to hide it better than others, while the lucky ones are able to find a way to work through it and move on. Take you and me, for example. When we were kids I hated you based primarily on principle. I thought your blood was dirty and your kind detestable. I wanted to wipe you out of the wizarding world because I thought—because I was raised to think—that you were ruining everything that we had worked towards. It wasn't until the war that I found out I was wrong, and it wasn't until I got to know you that I found out what a great person you are. It goes the same the other way around. It wasn't until you began to get to know me that you found a friend."

Hermione sighed.

"Look, all I'm saying is that you don't really know the guy all that well. His actions so far haven't been award-worthy, but until you actually know him as a person, save your judgment."

"I thought I was supposed to be the smart one," Hermione said with a small smile.

"Not around me you're not."

Hermione looked up in time to catch Millie's wink and laughed.

"Now," Millicent began with a wicked smile that sent Hermione immediately on guard, "when's the last time you spoke to Potter?"

"Harry?" Hermione asked, confused. "I popped into to say hello to him yesterday to ask him to grab lunch but he said he had plans. Other than that, not since last week since he couldn't make it on Sunday. Why? What do you know, Millie?"

Millicent shrugged calmly as she took a long, slow sip of her soup that had Hermione itching to wipe the smirk off her face. Millie knew something and it was killing Hermione not knowing, especially when it came to her best friend. Whatever it was, shouldn't _she_ have been among the first to know?

"Perhaps you should ask him yourself. He is _your_ best friend after all," Millicent said, to which Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Millie!"

Millicent threw her head back and laughed aloud. "All right, Granger! Geez, you Gryffindors always need to rush everything. No patience whatsoever. I hear he had a little run in with little Miss Parkinson the other day."

On the edge of her seat, Hermione burst out as Millicent paused for, what Hermione thought, an unnecessary long time, "_And_?"

"And you'll have to ask him, won't you? I'm a witch, not a seer, for Merlin's sake."

"You are impossible."

"And yet you put up with me. What exactly does that make you?"

"A masochist, apparently," Hermione said with a wry grin.

o-o-o

"Harry Potter!"

Instantly on the type of alert that only angry women could rouse, Harry peeked above the rim of his glasses to see the blurry image of a perturbed and determined young woman with wild bushy hair at his doorway. As he lifted his head slowly, Hermione came into clearer view and the tenseness in his shoulders were spot on: perturbed and determined indeed.

"Yeah?"

At his unwillingness to forfeit and give everything up right away, Hermione slowly narrowed her eyes and shut the door behind her. "Tell me, Harry. Where were you Sunday? You missed quite the show."

At that, Harry cracked a smile. "Yeah, Ron told me about that. Can't believe I missed that git make a fool out of himself."

"Why exactly did you miss it?"

"Uhh," Harry faltered, averting his eyes from her withering stare. "I told you I was sick."

A slow smile formed on Hermione's face as she lifted an eyebrow in interest. "Oh? I do believe you told me you had to work when you Floo-called that day to tell me you couldn't make it."

"Oh. Are you sure?" Harry asked as he reached up a nervous hand to scratch his ear and peeked up at her with a guilty smile forming on the corners of his lips.

Hermione grinned, having caught him red-handed, and sat back in the chair in front of his desk. "Spill."

Harry deflated. "I was with Pansy."

At his elongated pause—what was it with people not finishing their stories in a timely manner?—Hermione burst out, "And?"

"And we had a good time."

"Ugh." Hermione knocked against her head back against the top of the chair and stared at the ceiling in wonder. Did nobody know how to tell a decent story anymore? She needed details! "Okay, start from the beginning and leave nothing out."

Harry sighed. "Last Thursday I ran into her at Diagon Alley at Amanuensis's—you know they're the only ones that carry those Gyrfalcon quills I like—and we kind of just ended up spending the day together."

"Aww! Where did you go?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "First Fortescue's for some ice cream, then I took her around Muggle London a bit. We actually got stuck in Hyde Park for a while when it started raining, and she got sick so I spent the next two days…well…taking care of her."

Hermione could clearly see the blush rising on Harry's cheeks and tried her hardest not to swoon—really she did—but the whole thing was just too cute. "That is adorable."

"Yeah, well…"

"And Sunday?"

"Oh, well, she was still ill but wanted to get out of the house so I took her flying with me. After bundling her up, of course."

The image of Pansy Parkinson swaddled in fluffy blankets and holding on to Harry for dear life was almost too much to take—quite possibly the cutest thing she'd heard all month. "Okay," Hermione said, laughing at Harry's embarrassed flush. "Torture session is over. I just wish you'd told me and I didn't have to hear it from somebody else."

"I know. I'm sorry, Hermione. It's just that it's new and I'm not entirely sure what to think of it yet. I mean, I'm excited and all, but I'm worried about the consequences, you know? I mean, she's one of…them."

Hermione nodded, thinking back to her own run in with Theodore Nott and knowing that Harry's fears were also her own. The war was over but that certainly didn't mean inter-house unity had been achieved. There was still animosity between certain groups and families and she felt hesitant about attaching herself so quickly to _them_ as she'd also started calling that lot in her head.

"No, I get it," Hermione said as she stood up and started walking towards the door. "But listen, Harry. You've pretty much spent your whole life on other people's terms… maybe you should start carving out some of your own. You like her, I can tell, and you owe it to yourself to see where it's going without being worried about everyone else."

Harry nodded sagely. "You too, yeah? If you want Nott, go after him. No sense in only me getting what I want."

o-o-o

_May 28, 2003_

_Miss Granger,_

_I hope this letter finds you in good health. _

_I must confess that since our spontaneous run-in last week at Madam Malkin's, I've thought of little else but you. I hope that these attentions are not displeasing and you will do me the honour of having dinner with me this Friday. If so, please pick a place and time with your reply and I will be there waiting to woo you off your feet. If not, please pardon this forward letter and throw it into the fire at your earliest convenience. _

_Do give my best to Miss Weasley if you could._

_Your admirer,_

_Theodore Nott_

o-o-o

Ginny looked up at Hermione across the top of the letter with wide eyes and saw Hermione's own stunned expression staring back at her. "I know!" her friend mouthed as Ginny grinned.

"Please tell me you said yes."

"Of course, Gin! How could I not?"

"Well? Where? When?"

"Friday at eight, Captain's."

Ginny's eyebrows rose admirably. "Good for you. Going all out, eh?"

Hermione shrugged a shoulder. "I figured I might as well make use of the opportunity. Plus their lamb chops are to die for."

"Mmm," Ginny agreed. "And their shrimp scampi. I could probably live off of that stuff. And what are you planning to wear?"

"Well, that's where I hope you could come in."

Ginny's grin reached her ears. "I thought you'd never ask. Come on," she said excitedly as she jumped up and grabbed Hermione's hand, running down the corridor to the Apparition point with Hermione trailing behind her laughing uproariously.

o-o-o

"No."

"Ginny!"

"No!"

"But it's fine!"

"You are not wearing Gryffindor colours on this date! Do you want to get him to like you or challenge him before it's even started?"

"So, I'm just supposed to be a drone now? Shouldn't he like me for me?"

Ginny's shoulders sagged as she continued looking through the racks. "Of course he will, Hermione. I'm just thinking that you should perhaps let him get to that point without first scaring him off."

"I highly doubt wearing a gold dress that just happens to have a subtle red design would scare him off."

"No, but we certainly don't want to give him the opportunity, now do we? Here, try this," Ginny said as she held up a knee-length emerald dress. Since she was still rummaging through the rack, she was completely missing the glare that Hermione was sending her way—not that Hermione could see anything beyond Ginny's arm poking out amongst the fabric, swaying the Slytherin dress to and fro.

"So we're luring him to me then, is that it?"

Ginny's head poked above the fabric. "I hardly think wearing a green dress will do anything other than show off that lovely figure and make him fall head over heels in love with you." At Hermione's no-nonsense stare she gave up. "All right, fine. No harm in giving him a gentle nudge, now is there?"

Hermione sighed. "How about something nice and neutral, hmm? No tricks, no games, just something that makes me feel pretty."

"Oh, all right," Ginny said as she retracted her arm and stuck the dress back in the rack.

Ten minutes went by with Hermione slowly and steadily losing hope until Ginny's triumphant shout made her jump in surprise.

"I've got it! This," Ginny said as she came running over holding something behind her back, "is absolutely perfect and if you disagree with me on this I'll pelt you with sling-backs."

Only one look and Hermione had to agree. It was perfect. "Ginny, that's gorgeous!"

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

_Amanuensis Quills_ is a quill shop next to Madam Malkin's and shown in the _Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets_ video game. Information pulled from the Harry Potter wiki: "Amanuensis Quills is a small stationary shop located in Diagon Alley, immediately next to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. It is a store that sells different types of quills and ink." Since it isn't very well known, I figured it might sell specialty quills and inks—the type that Harry couldn't find elsewhere.

Ginny's, "I'll pelt you with slingbacks," comes from _Notting Hill_. When Julia Roberts's character, Anna, is running through her lines, she says, "And if you say one word about how many mistakes I made in that speech, I'll pelt you with olives." I'd always found it funny.

Thanks for reading! And if you have time, please review!


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: **Thanks for staying with me this far, guys! Hope you enjoy. This chapter was a lot of fun to write.

The songs in this chapter are in order, as follows: _In Da Club_ by 50 Cent, _Baby Boy_ by Beyoncé, and _Your Body is a Wonderland_ by John Mayer. I have to say it was _a lot_ of fun to go through my iPod and find all of the songs I'd jammed to when I was a teenager…talk about nostalgia. I highly recommend you head over to YouTube and jam a little. Just saying.

* * *

"Shit…shit…shit," Hermione muttered before grabbing her keys and shutting the door behind her, waving her wand in its general direction to restore her wards as she ran down the hallway. She was running late and she absolutely _hated_ running late.

She had been doing fine until Harry Floo-called with what he deemed was an emergency. Apparently he had trouble figuring out which tie to wear on his date with Pansy and which bottle of wine to bring. Upon closer inspection, because really one could only see so much while leaning over a hot grate and kneeling in soot, she told him to go with the dark grey tie to offset his brilliant green eyes and bring a nice bottle of merlot.

The call by itself isn't necessarily what set her back but rather the soot caked onto her dress as the result of it, not to mention the damage the heat from the flames did to her hair, making it even more bushy than normal. The soot had been taken care of with a few quick _Scourgify_s, but the hair was what had her running ten minutes behind schedule. She ran down the corridor and took a left, opening the door at the end of the hallway and stumbling into the stairwell, the official Apparition point for her building and left with a resounding _pop_, appearing in the Leaky Cauldron only seconds later.

She ran through the pub and tapped the appropriate bricks with her wand before cursing once more upon finding Theo standing outside of the restaurant with a sour look on his face as he lifted his wrist to check the time. She'd sincerely been hoping that she hadn't upset him too much when he turned his head and a smile graced his features at seeing her running down the alley.

"Hermione! I thought for a second you weren't coming and was admittedly a bit worried."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. A friend had an emergency and it put me behind schedule. You weren't waiting long, I hope?"

"Oh, no. Only half an hour or so." At Hermione's troubled look he laughed it off. "Don't worry. It was mostly spent in anticipation with only the slightest agitation."

"I am truly very sorr—"

"Nonsense," he said quickly, cutting her off, before turning to open the door of the restaurant. "Shall we?"

Immediately the sound of clanging silverware and chatter filled her ears as she stepped into the low-lit and warmed restaurant. She stopped cold upon just entering, however, as she saw another Slytherin coming her way with Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass trailing behind him.

Walking throughout the restaurant towards the exit, Draco Malfoy had on an indifferent expression as he casually observed the occupants enjoying their dinner. Upon seeing her, however, he paused only briefly before looking her up and down with lazy interest before his grey eyes flitted to the person standing behind her. At sight of Theodore Nott, his eyes narrowed and hardened.

"Malfoy," Theo said curtly with a nod. "Zabini, Greengrass."

Malfoy only looked at him for a brief second more before looking down to meet her eyes. "Granger," he said softly before walking out of the restaurant without so much as a second glance towards Theo's direction.

The pompous git. Couldn't even say hello to an old classmate yet had the gall to appraise her form, his date, in front of him. She felt admonished on his behalf and incredibly naked all of a sudden. She looked down briefly at what she was wearing and tried to convince herself that her dress wasn't all that inappropriate, but his interest had her thinking otherwise. Maybe it was too short.

She and Ginny had decided on a layered, deep indigo dress that stopped just before her knees. It was silk and moved easily with her body, making it incredibly comfortable. It had an asymmetric draping design, the fabric bunching on her left shoulder like that of a toga but hung off her right and wrapping around on her waist. In short, it was beautiful and she felt beautiful in it.

The thing that alarmed her most, however, was not the anger pooling in her gut at Malfoy's flippant disregard of Theo, but rather the appreciation for her that she'd seen in his bright grey eyes. It inspired feelings in her that she decided to no longer entertain while on a date with a charming, handsome, and all-around better man.

"Well, that was undesirable," she heard Theo mutter as they followed the maître de.

"A generalization, I find, with anything that involves Malfoy," she said once they'd reached the table, draping her coat on the back of it and sitting in the chair the maître de offered her.

"Hmm," he said in agreement as he stepped around the table and sat in the chair opposite her.

"I must confess, however, that I was a bit surprised at the cold greeting he bestowed on you. I'm sorry if this is prying, but with me it's acceptable since we've been enemies since children. With you, however…" she trailed off, suddenly realizing how rude it was to pry into someone else's business that did not include her in the slightest. She could not escape the acknowledgement, however, that she was dying to know.

Theo smiled slightly. "Well, not only was he in my house and my mate throughout my years at Hogwarts, but we also grew up together. I spent more time at Malfoy Manor than at my own home."

"Really?" Hermione shouldn't have been surprised. After all she'd heard Millie talk many times before about how often the pureblood families socialised with each other. It would only seem natural that along with running throughout the halls of Malfoy Manor with Crabbe and Goyle, Theo would be there as well.

Theo nodded as he perused the menu. "Yes," he started before he paused, causing Hermione to realise that she'd just inquired about the history of two men who came from death eaters. Surely he wouldn't want to enter into such a discussion in such a public place.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have asked. I can often be too curious for my own good sometimes."

"No, it's all right," he stated before looking up at her and smiling. "As you know, he and my father were friends and both… Anyway, after my father died in Azkaban after sixth year I came to stay with the Malfoys."

"What about your mother?" Hermione asked, already engrossed in his story.

"Unfortunately she died giving birth to me."

"Oh, I'm so sorry."

"Please, don't apologise. It was a long time ago. Anyway, as I was saying, I came to stay with the Malfoys at sixteen. Even amongst the chaos of the war, Lucius knew I wanted to go into Potions and become a Potions master upon graduation. He had promised to set aside my tuition to study under a master but after he died in the Battle at Hogwarts, Draco refused me the money and gave it away instead to Goyle who gambled it away carelessly. So, now I'm a lowly worker in the Ministry, reduced to running petty errands for my boss and his wife, trying to repay my debts for having a family that pledged allegiance to the wrong side—all the while having no money or any real prospects to dig myself out of the hole I was placed in."

"That's terrible!" Hermione stated, outraged at the news.

Theo smiled in sad agreement. "It's unfortunate, yes, but that's what happened. I really should be the one glaring at him at every turn but I refuse to stoop myself to such a low level in his presence. All I can keep doing now is to continue working and building my way towards the top so that I can one day make the money for the tuition."

"Well, that hardly seems fair. I'm sure the Ministry could sponsor you or something."

"Don't think I haven't tried. But with my background and my family, they wouldn't dream of sending a Death Eater's son into training for free. Besides, I've found that I want to do this on my own, on my own terms. That way, when I finally do manage it, I'll know I've earned it."

Hermione was surprised. She couldn't say she felt even marginally better towards Lucius Malfoy, but she was upset that Theo was stiffed in such a cold manner. It seemed so unfair that Theo would have to suffer at the bottom while Malfoy got all of the wealth and glory when he didn't even do anything worthy. It only reaffirmed her belief that throwing money at nameless charities meant nothing if the person behind it was cold and heartless.

She also greatly admired Theo's conviction and was even more glad to be with him tonight, seeing what a wonderful man he has become.

"Well, I am impressed and wish you all the luck in the world," she said with a smile. No more was spoken of on the subject and they proceeded to have a lovely dinner and an even lovelier walk afterwards that left her giddy with a stomach filled with butterflies at her doorstep.

o-o-o

_May 30, 2003_

_Hermione,_

_Hello, dear. We'll all be ready to pop by tomorrow morning around ten, if that's all right. Be sure to have the Floo open, and Ron's requested that you have plenty of coffee ready as he hasn't changed at all since he was a boy and refuses to get up before noon without any type of reward._

_See you Saturday!_

_Molly_

o-o-o

She had done much more than coffee, that was for sure. Hermione looked at the table full of croissants, doughnuts, and biscuits with a proud smile. They were, after all, coming by to help her paint her entire flat and would not go under appreciated. There was already a pot of coffee waiting with another brewing, filling the tiny flat with the smell of morning.

The paint supplies were all in a corner of the living room. She had started draping most of the furniture the previous night but they would have to tape up the edges of the walls and drape the carpet as well.

With a crackling of embers, she turned around to see green flames engrossing her fireplace and George Weasley stepping out of it. He greeted her with a grin before turning back around to help Angelina out. One by one members of the Weasley family and Harry stepped out, filling her living room with excited chatter. Ron, of course, went straight for the table, already filling his face with a blueberry scone while pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"Geez, Ron. It's not like mum fed you half an hour ago or anything!" Ginny shouted as she walked towards Hermione and pulled her to the side.

At her questioning expression Hermione shook her head in warning. "Not here," she mouthed, to which Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Mum! Hermione and I will tackle her bedroom," she announced before making a beeline towards the painting supplies, dragging Hermione along. Together they grabbed the paint can with the light beige swatch on top that the store called "Bayou Shade," a couple of brushes, rollers, two trays, drop cloths , masking tape, and trudged back to her room.

Once they dropped everything on the floor and started covering up the floors and the rest of the furniture, Ginny turned towards Hermione. "All right, tell me everything."

Hermione grinned. "About what?" she asked innocently before grabbing the tape and pressing it against the edges.

"Ugh," Ginny groaned before waving her wand. The tape flew out of Hermione's hand and taped itself along all of the edges in her bedroom.

"Hey!"

"We don't have to do that part Muggle, you ninny. Just the painting part. Now tell me what happened!"

"All right," Hermione said laughing as she pulled her hair back and into a tight bun. "Well, really it was fantas—"

"Don't start without me!" Katie said as she burst through the door into the room holding one strudel in her right hand and two in the other with three mugs of coffee floating peacefully behind her. With her foot she kicked the door closed and walked towards the center of the room, handing Hermione and Ginny each a strudel and directing the mugs toward each witch. The three women began enjoying their coffee and treats as Hermione recalled her date with Theodore Nott.

Two hours later found she and Ginny laying on the floor exhausted, an entire room painted and magically dried—she did love being a witch—and all of the furniture put back in place and everything cleaned up. She knew Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were just finishing up the living room. George and Angelina had been assigned to tackle the kitchen while Ron and Harry had taken on the bathroom. Katie had insisted that at just five months along, she was perfectly capable of doing the grunt work, but neither Ron nor Mrs. Weasley would hear of it, so she'd instead been assigned to tasks that needed the assistance of her wand only—covering everything with drop cloths, taping edges, _Scourgify_-ing the used supplies, and helping everyone dry the walls.

"Come on," Ginny said as she sat up and pulled Hermione up along with her. Together they walked out of the bedroom and Hermione got a good look at her new flat, smiling at the newly painted walls. It felt different already. She felt new and refreshed, and only a little bit like she could do anything she wanted at that moment.

"How does it look, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked as she brushed the paint off of her fingers onto her work pants. There was a smudge of light blue on her cheek and in Mr. Weasley's hair.

Looking around, Hermione found little bits of paint on everyone and grinned at how amazing her family was.

Because no matter what, the Weasleys had become her family.

"It looks amazing, Molly! Thank you guys so much. I had a lot of fun."

"Oh, it's no problem," Angelina said as she came up and gave her a side hug.

They ended up staying for another hour, helping clean and tidy—Ron eating the rest of the cheese Danishes—before all collapsing onto the sofa and chairs, finally able to take a breather, talking and laughing about past memories.

All left one by one back through the Floo. After hugging Mrs. Weasley in thanks and promising to be there for Sunday brunch the next day, Ginny hung back for a few minutes and the two decided to meet for lunch on Tuesday.

o-o-o

"When are you seeing him again?"

"Not for a couple of weeks, actually. He's busy with work then he'll be out of town until the seventeenth. We have plans for dinner that Friday."

"Goodness, Hermione, that's two and a half weeks away. Well, I guess that gives you time to doodle his name in your notebook, or whatever it is that you do to prepare."

"Ginny!"

"I'm just kidding. Have you decided on what to wear?"

"I was thinking the yellow strapless dress?"

"Very good! Look at you, learning how to dress fancy all by yourself. I'm so proud!"

"Oh, shut it. Are you going next Friday?"

"To Lee's birthday extravaganza? Yeah. His parties are always really interesting."

"Are you bringing anybody?" Hermione asked coyly.

"Well, actually I was thinking about bringing Cormac McLaggen."

Hermione sputtered out her tea. "Don't you dare!"

Ginny laughed. "Again, kidding. I haven't found anybody yet. It's too bad Theo will be away. You could have shown him off."

Hermione smiled. "We're not quite there yet, what with me only having gone out with him once. I was going to bring Millie though; she's never been to one of his birthdays before."

"Ooh, good idea. I wonder why she wasn't invited beforehand."

Hermione shrugged a shoulder. "I know. It's stupid really but people are still hesitant."

"About what though? She's proven herself again and again."

"I'm actually starting to wonder if it's even about proving oneself anymore, you know what I mean? She's been working at the Ministry for five years, slowly but surely building her way up and gaining respect at work, yet it never seems like enough. It's like even though people can clearly see that she is a good person trying her hardest to show others what she's made of, people still hate her based solely on principle. They can't get over her background. They can't get over her family. They can't get over the fact that she was a Bulstrode in Slytherin. Never mind what she's doing now to help the wizarding world."

"It's funny Malfoy isn't in the same boat she is."

"I know. He just proves that if you throw a little money at the right people, everything clears up instantly and soon diamonds are thrown at your feet for no good reason whatsoever. Everybody worships him for nothing and looks down on Millie when she's really got something to give. I hate to think it, but sometimes I really do think that nothing will ever change."

"Oh, Hermione."

"No, really. I mean I've been working at the Ministry for just as long and what have I done? I mean really? All I've been able to do so far is my job, what's expected of me, just to get noticed and get some respect. How much longer until I actually make a change? How much longer until I can actually affect the wizarding world in a positive way where money means less than integrity? Twenty years? Thirty years? And even then it will be small changes.

"What if I work my ass off for the next fifty years only to find out that in the end the Malfoys of the world still win and my life will have been for nothing? What if at the end of the day it doesn't matter what a person's true character is, only how people think of you? You could be the greatest person in the entire world and not only would nobody ever know, but they'd never care because they're too stuck in their own shit to look past the stereotypes."

o-o-o

"Granger," Malfoy said as he slid into the barstool next to her and ordered a firewhisky. 50 Cent's _In Da Club_ blasted in the background and the air was beginning to get muggy with the rabid movements of young bodies grinding to the music, even without the help of the smoke machine currently giving everything a distinct haze.

"Ma—Malfoy," she sputtered, surprised at his sudden appearance. She quickly wiped away the liquid that dribbled down her chin and looked at him strangely. What in the world was he doing at Lee Jordan's birthday party? As far as she knew, they weren't exactly chums.

"Enjoying yourself?"

"Uhh… yes. I'm sorry, what are you doing here? I wasn't aware you were acquainted with Lee." She was also wondering why he felt it upon himself to suddenly ruin her good mood with his presence, but she decided to keep that question to herself.

"Malfoy Enterprises has an investment in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. At our last meeting, George invited me."

"George invited you."

"Yes," he said as he downed the shot in one go and motioned for another.

"George Weasley."

"Yes."

"George Weasley invited you to Lee Jordan's birthday party."

He quirked an eyebrow in amusement as he glanced at her briefly before downing the second shot poured in front of him. "Yes."

"And you came?"

Malfoy smirked. "Why not? I figured it would be a good party. The booze," he said as he gestured towards the bar in front of him, "would be adequate and free flowing. And I know he has a talent at finding good music after hearing him DJ for a whole night only last month. So, again, why not?"

"Because it's… what I mean to say is that… I mean, seriously, you came?"

"Obviously, Granger. Perhaps we could move on from that subject since I believe you've beaten it to death and onto something a little more conversational."

Hermione scowled. Thankfully she was saved a response by a sweaty blonde woman who came crashing into the bar having clearly had too much alcohol and slurred all over Malfoy. "Draco, baby. Wanna dance?" she asked as she wrapped her fingers around the back of his neck.

Malfoy moved away from her, ripping free his neck from her grippy fingers and sneered. "Bugger off, Forrester, and go home. You're starting to smell."

Even through her drunken haze, the Forrester woman knew she was getting the brush-off and moved onto another potential victim.

"Geez, Malfoy. Did you have to be so cruel? She was drunk."

"Yes," he said curtly. "She was drunk. It so happens that she's always drunk and she's been trying to get her hands on my money and herself in my bed for the past three years and I've gotten a little sick of it."

"Well, perhaps a little more cordiality than telling a woman she smells would have been called for."

"She smelled like alcohol and male sweat, the latter she's gained from bumping up against every available man here. That's hardly lady-like."

Hermione's face set into a grim line. She could not _stand_ his superior attitude all the time. Does he not give anyone a break? "Sometimes people go through a rough time, Malfoy. Would it hurt for you to be a gentleman at least once in your life and perhaps give them a break?"

He turned slowly towards her and she watched as his left eyebrow rose in interest. She kept his gaze, determined not to let him win this one when she swore she saw admiration appear on his face for just the briefest second. Unfortunately, _he_ was saved a response this time by someone that _she _knew crashing into the bar.

"Hermione!" shouted Harry as he gave her a giant bear hug and kissed her sloppily on the cheek.

There were very few times when she'd seen Harry let go of himself enough to get properly sloshed out in public, and it was usually at insider events such as these… or what events like these should have been had Malfoy not deigned to show up. From the past few years, though Lee's birthdays were usually a big affair, they were only available to a close-knit group of people. Housemates from Hogwarts always got a standing invitation. A few select classmates from different houses that he had become friends with throughout the years were always invited. Dates and friends of those invited were of course able to come but they had to be attached to an invitee. Not just anybody could come in. Also, his current friend and coworkers were always welcome. Beyond that, not many people knew about Lee's crazy celebrations.

So, because of that, Harry found Lee's parties intimate enough to let loose… and this was definitely one of those times.

"How you holding up, Harry?" Hermione asked as she sat her friend on the other stool next to her and ordered a glass of water from the bartender.

"Fantastic! Merlin, I love Lee's parties. Have you danced yet, Hermione? You've gotta save one for me, yeah?"

"I—sure, Harry. Here, drink this."

"Oh, thanks. Mmm—where's your chap? Nott?"

"Oh, uhh—he couldn't make it."

"Oh, that's too bad. Pansy couldn't either. Said she had to be up early tomorrow for work or something. I don't really remember what she said at the moment if I can be honest." He laughed as he leaned against her.

Hermione knew that when he got really drunk, he became forgetful and giddy. It was always interesting to see her cool, composed friend in this way.

"I see that hasn't stopped you from having fun though."

"Of course not! These things only come around once a year. And Ginny's always been a splendid dancer. And Hannah. And Millie. And Cho. And Parvarti."

Hermione's eyebrows rose significantly as she laughed. "My goodness, Harry. How long have you been out there?"

"Oh, who knows? Hey! What are you doing sitting here with Malfoy, Hermione?"

"I—"

"Oi, Malfoy! Get off your high horse and dance, you great git!"

"Harry!"

"No thanks, Potter."

"Oh, come on. You've been sitting next to our lovely Hermione here this whole time and haven't even asked her to dance? What's the matter with you, man?"

Hermione turned an embarrassing shade of red and turned towards Malfoy, mortified. "Please do not listen to him. He doesn't know what he's saying, I assure you."

Malfoy shook his head and downed his fourth shot of Firewhisky. "He's right, Granger. Will you allow me to have this next dance?"

Stunned into silence, all Hermione could do was nod as her mouth hung open uselessly. She turned back towards Harry and gave him a "What the hell?" look, to which he only shrugged happily and shouted, "There you go, mate!" towards Malfoy before bouncing off once more.

Hermione shut her eyes cursing every deity she'd ever heard of and prayed for the next song to be somewhat decent. Throughout the night the DJ hired had been playing the overly-sexualized songs that were currently popular and she hoped beyond all hope that that would not be the case for her dance with Malfoy. She really didn't need to taint her memory with the image of her bumping and grinding against him.

As Beyoncé's _Baby Boy_ faded away, Hermione listened closely for what the next song the DJ chose and dropped her head. _Your Body is a Wonderland_ by John Mayer. Oh, goody. She couldn't decide if she'd rather have the overly sexual songs talking about doing the dirty deed in the back of the club or the ballad about a young man worshipping his lover's body.

Oh, goody indeed.

Before she got up, Hermione grabbed Malfoy's fifth shot out from under him and downed it herself, reveling in the burn as the liquid coursed down her throat and warmed her insides, giving her the courage she needed to do this and get it over with. Vaguely behind her she heard Malfoy mutter, "Why do women keep doing that?" and walked towards the dance floor.

As her hips started to move to the beat, she felt Malfoy's hands grasp them lightly and move along with her. As they continued to move he became bolder, his hands inching forward and grasping her body as he stepped in behind her. She tensed, incredibly aware of the hard planes of his body pressed against her back.

"Relax, Granger. Just enjoy."

She took a deep breath and leaned her head back to rest against his shoulder. Wherever his fingers touched, they left fire in their wake and Hermione let the music and moment carry her away. She didn't remember feeling so alive and was only marginally scared that the moment was shared with Malfoy.

Midway through the song she felt Malfoy's fingers tighten and she found herself flipped around, pressing up against him front to front instead. The establishment of male dominance had her nerves sizzling. Her heart pounding maddeningly, she trailed her hands up his arms and clasped them behind his neck as her eyes followed a slow line up, staring longer than necessary at his open collar and full lips before meeting his eyes. He began to mouth something and she looked back down at his lips to see them form the word "relax" once more. She realised that his flipping maneuver had caused her to tense up once more and she took his advice and took another deep breath, relaxing her muscles.

She focused on the fluidity of the song, Malfoy's clean and woodsy scent embracing her senses, his fingers on her lower back widening and contracting as if he was trying to feel every inch of the small space he was allowed as much as possible. He was gentlemanly in that respect—never once attempting to move his hands lower. Still, she felt thoroughly felt up and delicious, and that thought scared her more than anything else.

At the very back of her mind she realised that ten minutes of snogging against the door to her flat with Theo didn't come anywhere close to how she was feeling now: alive and exhilarated. But then her body chastised her mind for thinking of another man when an incredibly gorgeous one was staring at her so intensely now and she felt Theo float away. This moment belonged to Malfoy.

He was attractive; there was absolutely no denying that. She'd have to be blind, dumb, and deaf to try and contradict that statement. He was also confident in a way that, though it could be incredibly insulting and degrading, was also very assured and sexy. And the way he was looking at her as if he wanted to devour her made her wish she could remove her brain and keep it in a safe place for the night in order to let him. Instead, she tightened her hold, bringing her body closer to his. He responded in kind, practically nuzzling her.

His lips were so close…

Soon, way too soon in Hermione's opinion, the song ended and they stood there as the second song started. She stared at him, trying to decipher in his grey eyes what he would decide the next move would be—would he begin another dance with her or decide to call it quits?—when she felt his hands slip from her body and he gave a curt nod before turning on his heel and walking away, leaving her standing in the middle of the dance floor utterly confused and breathing heavily.

o-o-o

"What was _that_?" Ginny asked as she burst through the bathroom door. It swung shut behind her and with it the sounds of the raging party outside muffled as well, leaving the two women alone in the pristine white bathroom with nothing but their thoughts and Hermione's heavy breathing.

She was leaning over the sink staring down at the porcelain, trying her damnedest to control her breathing and her thoughts. Ginny had it right. What the _hell_ was that? "I don't know," she said simply.

"You two looked like you were about to devour each other out there."

"I'm not surprised."

"Hermione, talk to me," Ginny implored.

"I don't know what happened," Hermione said as she turned around and leaned back against the counter. "I'm still trying to figure that out."

"I thought you hated him."

"I do! That's the confusing part. I do hate him. I can't stand him as a person. I think he's a pompous asshole and could afford to be taken down a peg or two… or fifty. He did nothing but torment me when we were children and has hardly done anything worthy of forgiveness since then, yet he walks the earth like he owns it and can do as he pleases without reprimand. He was given a measly sentence for his sins and I thoroughly believe he hasn't paid for what he did sixth year or since… but…"

"But you want to shag the daylights out of him." Hermione looked up in shock at Ginny. "Oh, don't give me that look. I saw you two dancing and wasn't kidding before. Even though he certainly looked like he would have gladly flipped up your skirt and shagged you right on the dance floor, you, Hermione, were no virgin Mary either."

"Oh, god. What is the matter with me, Ginny? I think we should go to St. Mungo's… I need to have my head checked."

Ginny laughed. "I think you just got a little caught up in the moment. Just chalk it up to too much tequila and call it a day. Once you leave here you don't plan on tracking him down and attacking him with your mouth, do you?"

"Of course not!"

"Okay, then. Just take a deep breath and relax."

"Ugh, that's what got me into this whole mess."

"What?"

"He kept telling me to relax and I… Merlin, I don't know—I listened to him!"

Ginny laughed again, her chuckles bouncing off the white walls, as she walked over to Hermione and wrapped an arm around her. "You'll be fine, Hermione. Just keep your head on straight and you'll be fine. No more tequila tonight, I think, as that seems to lead straight towards the 'let's shag Malfoy' thought process. Ow!" Ginny said as Hermione slapped her on the stomach as they walked out of the bathroom.

* * *

**Author's Note: **As I said, this chapter was a lot of fun to write—especially the dance scene. Thanks so much for reading! Please review if you can.

If you're interested, the URL to the dress Hermione wore on her date with Theo can be found on my profile.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: **I would have uploaded this earlier, but there was something funky going on with the site. Sorry about that! Enjoy :)

* * *

"Oh, god! I'm sorry. I keep doing tha—oh." Hermione groaned before nodding her head once. "Malfoy."

"Granger," he said as he let his hands drop away from their steady grip on her arms when she'd bumped into him.

She really needed to start watching where she was going. Her accidental run-ins were now affecting her mental stability since the brief, few seconds in which his arms had shot out to stabilise her had her heart racing and her body tightening.

"I'm sorry," he stated cordially. "I wasn't watching where I was walking."

_Of course not, you big oaf. Not like the world's full of people who don't care about how big and important you make yourself out to be_.

When she didn't answer, he tried again. "How have you been?"

"Since I saw you three days ago? Splendid."

He nodded once before averting his eyes.

Couldn't he just nod stiffly and walk away as per his usual M.O.? She could do without the awkwardness and the shifty-eye thing. She decided to give him a hand. "How's Pansy? I only ever hear Harry's side of things and he doesn't talk about her much."

"She's fine," he stated stiffly. "And you're still seeing…"

"Theo?" she asked. He nodded once, his mouth set in a grim line. "He's doing great, though no help from you. I'm surprised you care enough to ask at all."

His gaze focused solely on her and his eyes narrowed in thought. "Your meaning?"

"Just that it's unfortunate you two had a falling out," she said simply, trying to maintain some modicum of pleasant interaction. They were very much in public after all.

Malfoy huffed a laugh. "Yes, unfortunate indeed. His carefree manner, however, will assure him that he will continue making many new friends. However long those relationships may last is _much_ less certain. I must confess, however, that I was a bit surprised to see you with him at Captain's that night."

"Oh?"

"Yes. I'd been under the misapprehension, it would seem, that you were still with Weasley."

"Ron?" she asked, flabbergasted.

He nodded once, his gaze focused intensely on her.

"No," she said a small shake of her head. "Ron and I split soon after the war ended. And I don't think that Katie would take too kindly to me dating him."

"Katie…Bell?"

She nodded as she held his gaze. "Yes, I believe you…made her acquaintance sometime during sixth year."

Malfoy stared at her a moment longer before looking down—in shame, Hermione thought. Good. He should feel ashamed.

"Anyway, they're married now."

He nodded. "I see. I wasn't aware."

Hermione stared up at him in deep thought.

"What?" he asked, seemingly uncomfortable with her stare.

"I just… I can't figure you out. What I've known about you, what I hear about you, and our mutual interactions contradict so strongly, it only serves to puzzle me more and more." There were brief moments when she would look at him and forget his past, forget his name, and feel something at the very bottom of her gut; something unidentifiable. Then there was everything else glaringly pointing at the obvious: he was bad news.

He stared down at her. "Well, I hope to afford you more clarity in the future, then." He paused and his eyes swept over her face, stopping at a rogue curl partially covering her left eye. She thought she saw a ghost of a smile, but it was gone just as quickly. "Goodbye, Granger," he said softly before brushing the curl out of her eyes and walking away.

Once more he left her standing in the middle of a crowded area confused and breathing far too heavily.

o-o-o

"Hermione," came a silky voice to her right and Hermione shut her eyes and groaned quietly. She was already having a crappy week and it had barely started yet. She really didn't need this now.

Her last date with Theo had not gone as well as she'd hoped. He'd been distant like the few others that had come before it…actually he'd been distant all around for the past month, starting sometime before Lee's party. Her owls would return with only a one or two worded response and he never answered her Floo calls. On the date whenever he'd smile at her she felt like it was only out of politeness and expectation, never genuine. She'd caught him looking at three other women at the restaurant and two while on the brief walk they'd taken after dinner. He'd only given her a peck on the lips at her doorstep and she missed the days when he'd practically snog the daylights out of her.

She was so confused. She couldn't think of a single thing she'd done but for some reason he seemed to already be slipping away. She hated to say it, but she found herself less accepting of his personality flaws than she would have normally been. Like his wandering eye, or his lack of manners while on a date. She'd gone two weeks now feeling thoroughly neglected and that was certainly not how one should feel when they started dating something new.

More often than not, however, she found herself covering his impolite mannerisms with excuses. Perhaps he was working too much and had his mind on other things. Stress was never a pleasant thing to deal with and she'd just have to learn to be patient.

She was just so frustrated. She'd been stewing in it for the last couple of days and had shown up at the Weasley's Sunday brunch in a foul mood. And now McLaggen wanted to seek her out of her lovely self-created moment of solitude away from the laughter and merriment.

"What?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"Ooh, so touchy. Anything I can do to help?" he asked with a lascivious leer that left her thoroughly repulsed and offended.

"No, thank you," she said with disgust as she turned back towards the window with a sneer. The last thing she needed at the moment was to be hit on, and certainly not by an overly-sexed cad.

"I have a proposition for you, Granger."

Hermione sighed. He apparently was absolute shit at taking hints and would not leave her alone until he had his fill. "What?" she asked as she turned away from the window.

"Well, as you've no doubt become aware, I've just inherited an incredibly large sum of money from my father and a good portion of control in the family affairs, including the company and estate."

"Okay," Hermione said with confusion and reserve. How could she not have become aware of it since he did nothing but talk about it with annoying persistence since he'd started coming to these things? 'My money this and my estate that'. Apparently he had also been given a significant share in the company his grandfather had erected; something to do with magical herbs and potions. She couldn't really say for sure since she hadn't cared enough to really listen that closely in the first place.

"I need a woman by my side, Granger," he said as he stared at her with intent.

Hermione tensed. "What?" she croaked in response. Dear god, was this going where she thought this was going? Her eyes darted around the room. Why was there nobody here to break up this conversation and save her?

"I want you to be that woman, Granger. I want you to be by my side when I take eventual control of the entire company. You're beautiful and will hang wonderfully on my arm at all of the functions and galas. Your polite and courteous manner will earn me respect amongst all my associates. And you're self-important enough to give me that extra leg up I need for everyone to show me the reverence I demand. I will go a far way, Granger, and I want you on my arm when I do."

Oh, Merlin…this _was_ where she thought it was going. He had been dropping hints for weeks that there had only been one thing he'd been missing in life: a trophy wife. That's what he wanted to make her into… a trophy wife. She retched at the thought.

"Uhh…McLaggen, I'm afraid I'll have to respectfully decline your offer."

"Pardon me?" he asked confused, as if unable to grasp the concept that she wanted to do something besides stand by his side with a dazed smile and be showed off for the rest of her life.

"I said I will have to decline your offer," she said slowly. Then as an afterthought added, "Respectfully."

The smile slowly dropped from his face and a cold edge entered his eyes. "And why exactly is that?"

Oh, how she could count the reasons. She decided to go with the easiest. "Because I don't feel that way about you."

"And why should that matter? I'm offering you a very lucrative deal here. A lifetime of ease and comfort."

"I don't want a lifetime of ease and comfort, McLaggen. I want love, happiness, and commitment."

"Merlin, you are an incredibly selfish brat, aren't you? You think a self-righteous Muggleborn like yourself will ever come by as good an offer as this one? I'm going to be a very powerful man someday, Granger, and you're turning down the chance to stand with me?"

Hermione, not perturbed in the least since she'd always known this disgusting side of him was kept locked away and just waiting to come out, she slowly set down her glass of orange juice on the windowsill and stood straight facing him, her left eyebrow lifting casually. "You heard correct. I am turning down your offer."

His eyes narrowed yet she stood her ground. "You will regret this, Granger. I can promise you that," he stated with venom before he turned around swiftly and walked out.

Hermione could clearly hear the door slam behind him and a distinct _pop_ telling her when he'd left. She only had to count down the seconds until—

"Holy shit!"

Hermione smiled at Ginny. "Do you miss nothing?"

"Absolutely not! And thank Merlin, too. Your life is turning out to be more exciting than mine is. And I'm a Quidditch star."

Hermione laughed as she accepted the hug Ginny offered her, leaning on the support she very much needed at that moment. "I can't believe you have to leave again, and so soon."

"I know. It sucks, but I love what I do and simply can't help it."

"But you just got here!"

Ginny laughed. "And I will come back, albeit I'll be gone for significantly longer this time."

"Ugh—don't remind me. Who's going to be there when something else traumatic happens?"

"You'll have Harry, Ron, Katie, and Millie…I don't think you'll be left wanting in terms of someone to gossip with."

"Oh, you know Katie's the only one worth discussing such thing with. Harry and Ron could care less and Millie's far too sensible and wise to spend her time on such trifle things as _gossip_."

"Well," Ginny said with a grin, "I suppose you'll just have to spill your heart out in letters then, won't you?"

"I suppose."

"Mum will be a little peeved, you know? She was so hoping for little bushy-haired McLaggens running around."

Hermione groaned. "Oh, be quiet, will you? I can only stomach so much in one day."

o-o-o

Hermione looked up from the letter she'd been writing to her mum and dad at the sound of the doorbell.

They had decided to stay in Australia after the end of the war when she'd gone and reversed their memories. Knowing how difficult it would be, she'd purposely put her life on hold for an entire month solely to work on the repair of her relationship with her parents.

To say the least, they were absolutely shocked when she'd first reversed them. Then a week straight of being boiling angry had followed where they had refused to talk to her, Ron, or each other. After countless shouting matches and endless tears, they had grudgingly accepted her reasoning but there was still a tension there that she'd been trying to work through for the past five years.

Since they had unknowingly been forced to live in Australia for a year, they had come to find that they actually loved it and had stayed there ever since, never wishing to return to England where the past and their daughter's betrayal lie. She visited them every Christmas and a week throughout the summer and wrote to them at least once a month to keep them updated on her life. They did her the courtesy of doing the same.

She knew she had made a life-altering decision that day when she'd decided to wipe her parents' memories, and they were all still paying the price.

Hermione walked over to the door and opened it, revealing a frowning Millicent.

"Millie," Hermione said with a smile as she invited her in. "What are you doing here?"

Millicent only gave her a brief smile before she walked in the flat. Once she reached the middle of the living room she turned around and stared straight at Hermione.

Hermione could already sense something was off and she was scared as to what it might be that had Millie on such edge.

"I got married last night."

"_What?_" Hermione asked as she froze mid-step with her eyes wide.

"I…" Millicent took a deep breath and shut her eyes for three beats before she opened them and looked at Hermione with resolve. "I got married last night to Cormac McLaggen."

Hermione stood stock still. Her mind had already erupted at the knowledge that her friend had married someone spontaneously; trying to think of any instance when she'd mentioned she was dating someone. A name anything. But at the discovery at who she had married, her mind went completely blank. She felt like the corners of her brain were crumbling around her because she couldn't fathom that what she'd just heard out of Millie's mouth could possibly be true. "What? I don't…I don't understand."

"I ran into him at the Leaky Cauldron the day after you turned down his proposition. An hour later we Portkeyed to a Wizarding chapel in Greece and I married him."

Hermione felt like the walls were closing in around her. All of the sounds from the street below out of her open window were beginning to drown out and her entire surroundings were becoming hazy before, boom… everything went clear again and she could focus.

"You're leaving out _why_ you did it," she said sharply. "I'm not understanding _why_, let alone _how could you_ and _what the hell were you thinking_?"

"Hermione," Millicent said softly. "He's offered me a way out—a way out of this hole I've been trying to dig myself out of for six years and _still_ stuck in. I would be given protection, Hermione, let alone comfort and power. I'll finally be able to do something and not immediately be judged for my past. I've been given the opportunity to restart my life."

"No, you've been given the opportunity to end it. How could you do this? He is vile, Millie! He is absolute scum and you…you _married_ him?"

"Stop it, Hermione! Do not judge me when I have never judged you! I have my reasons for doing this and I came here hoping for some modicum of your support. I knew you wouldn't be happy about this and I knew you would fight me, but I came here to tell you that it has been done."

Hermione collapsed onto the end table beside the door as she stared at the floor in shock.

"You know how hard it's been for me, Hermione. You know how long I've been fighting and losing. This is my chance to win. This is my chance to climb."

"How are you going to climb when you're stuck on his arm directing silver platters of finger food? He doesn't want a wife in power, Millie. He wants someone domicile and weak that will look pretty showing off his millions."

"I get just as much out of him as he does me. I'll be respected. Don't you understand that? I won't be feared or looked down upon anymore. I'll be able to work my way to the top without anything holding me back." Millicent paused as she righted the purse on her shoulder and it was then that Hermione spotted it, the gold wedding ring on her left ring finger. It was real. She had done it. "I came to say goodbye."

Hermione looked up at her in confusion.

"Cormac was given a prominent position at the American headquarters and I will be traveling there with him in two days. I'm sorry that you don't like this, but I do hope that someday you will understand my reasoning and find it within yourself to be happy for me."

"You're leaving me," Hermione stated softly as she looked down at the carpet at her feet.

Millicent sighed. "No, I'm leaving _for_ me." She stood in the middle of the room for another fifteen seconds waiting for a reply from Hermione. After nothing but silence, she left her friend's flat, shutting the door softly behind her.

o-o-o

"She did _what_?" Harry asked, his eyes bulging. He was sitting across from her in his office at his desk.

Hermione had walked in not two minutes before thoroughly blue and slumped into the chair opposite him. She had walked around with a heavy heart for the past two days, not only angry with Millie for her decision, but angry with herself for how she'd let Millie leave. They had argued before; they were incredibly different after all. But they'd always managed to resolve it because the friendship formed was always more important. Now, Hermione didn't know what to think.

"I know. And Ginny just left yesterday as well to Spain for the tournament. She won't be back for a month and a half at least. I feel like everybody is leaving all of a sudden. Leaving me."

Harry cocked his head to the side with a sympathetic expression. "They're not leaving you, Hermione. They're just moving on. I guess we're at that time where that becomes a regular occurrence."

Hermione smiled sadly. "I know. I just miss it before everything started changing—when everyone was here and happy and together. I blame that stupid ball."

Harry grinned. "I see you're taking my relationship well."

Hermione huffed a laugh. "Oh, Harry. That's not it, of course. I'm so happy for you; that you get to finally have someone to share things with. That was just the evil marker when everything changed."

Harry stood and walked around to her, pulling on her hands to help her stand as well. Keeping a hold of them, he dipped his head until she was looking him in the eye. "She said she was doing it for herself, yeah?"

Hermione nodded.

"Then that was what had to be done. I'm not happy with the decision either. I know how much of a scum-bag that guy can be, but I also know how much she has been struggling all these years."

Hermione's shoulders slumped again. He was right. She knew he was right.

"One thing I know about Millicent is that she's strong and doesn't take any crap from anybody. I think she knew what she was doing going in and can handle herself. You just have to trust her."

"I know. Oh, god, I know you're right. I just…hate it."

"I know." Harry hugged her tight and she took comfort in his strength.

She let herself relax in his embrace, and still holding on to him, said quietly, "So, when are you gonna talk about Pansy?"

Harry let her go abruptly, though not harshly. His movements were soft, but quick, and they confused Hermione utterly. He walked back around and sat back at the chair behind his desk.

"You barely talk about her, Harry! I want to know how it's going. How it's really going."

"I like her."

"Well, I should hope so. You've only been dating her for two and a half months. Any more details that you could let me in on?"

He looked up at her amused. "You want details?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, gross, Harry. Not those kinds of details. I swear, you're as bad as Ron sometimes. You know he tried to talk to me the other day about how much he loved Katie's huge knockers? His words, not mine."

Harry barked a laugh, the sound filling the room, and Hermione let out a reluctant smile. "What did you say?"

"I told him to shut up before clamping my hands over my ears, of course," she huffed. "But that is beside the point. Do you like her a lot? Is this going anywhere serious?"

Harry groaned. "Hermione."

Hermione knew her best friend long enough that she knew when his breaking point for sharing was, and unfortunately she'd just hit it. She was, however, a little peeved since she hadn't actually found out anything.

"Fine. I don't know. But just please tell me that Pansy does."

"I'm sure she does, now would you please get out of here? I've got work to do and you're distracting me," Harry said with an amused glare.

Hermione sent one back herself. "Fine," she said before walking towards the door. Before she closed it behind her, she looked back at him once more. "Thanks, Harry."

He nodded with a soft smile and she made her way back to her Millie-less department.

o-o-o

"Hermione!"

Hermione turned around at the familiar voice and put on a smile. She didn't know why, but something at the very bottom of her gut told her not to trust this man. She hated that it was there. He'd never truly done anything horrible against her or gave her any real reason to doubt him, but nevertheless, there it was.

She figured it was due to her position in the war; being on edge for so long. It had taken a year after the Battle at Hogwarts to be able to even trust what people said and not immediately think they had some other nefarious agenda. Harry, the Weasleys, and trusted members of the Order she'd never doubted, of course, but other newcomers in her life—those were the times when she had to push past the hurdle of trusting nobody and nothing. She figured she just had to try more—that's all.

But then she'd remember their interactions and the disinterest she swore she could sometimes see in his eyes, the way he'd talk over her without a second thought, and the less-than-gentlemanly manner that he'd regard her. She couldn't remember a single moment when he'd pull out her chair for her or offer to check her coat, often leaving those things to either the maître de or herself to handle. But surely those things didn't hint towards someone's character, right?

As he jogged towards her and she looked into his clear blue eyes, her reservations began to melt away once more.

"Theo! Hi."

"My, my, Hermione, you do look wonderful. How have you been? I'm very sorry that I haven't owled the past few days. Busy at work, you know."

Hermione smiled. "Not a problem. I've been busy myself."

"Oh? Don't have another chap on the side now, do you?"

She smiled shyly and felt her cheeks redden. "Of course not, Theo."

"Well, good. I wouldn't want to have to defend your honour. It's actually good that I ran into you, though. I found out early last week that I've been called away. That's actually why I'm here; just doing some last minute preparations before I leave tonight."

Hermione stared at him dumbstruck. "Tonight?"

"Yes. I'll be gone for a couple of months it seems so I won't be able to make our date tomorrow."

"Oh."

"I do hope you don't mind," Theo said distractedly as he swished his wand. The time flashed for two seconds in the air before disintegrating in thin wisps of blue smoke.

"No," Hermione said softly. "Of course not. Have a good trip."

He turned towards her and graced her with his charming smile once more before giving her a quick peck on the cheek and Disapparating on the spot.

Hermione walked in a confused daze towards the nearest bench and sat herself down, placing the heavy shopping bag she'd been carrying on the spot next to her.

She wasn't so much angry or hurt as disappointed. And confused. Did she just get the brush-off? She replayed the conversation in her head. His easy, charming manner and the way he had flirted with her in the beginning contradicted strongly with the disinterested way he'd told her he was leaving abruptly for two months without so much as a note in her direction in the end.

She knew they'd only been seeing each other casually, but surely he could have taken a second out of his busy week to tell her he was leaving, and not wait until the last possible moment when he just so happened to see her in Diagon Alley. She couldn't help but think that if she hadn't seen him today, she wouldn't have known he was leaving at all. Maybe a couple of hours before her date she'd get an owl saying something along the lines of "Hey, can't make it tonight. Away in wherever-I-am. Be back in two months. Ciao."

How depressing.

Hermione sighed and grabbed her bag to get up but stalled at the last second, a thought hitting her.

_Yes, unfortunate indeed. His carefree manner, however, will assure him that he will continue making many new friends. However long those relationships may last is much less certain._

Words that Malfoy had spoken to her a month prior. She took a deep breath, disturbed. This was the second time now she found herself replaying his words in her head. She suddenly had the horrid realization that he had an effect on her; on how she felt about certain people and reacted to certain situations. And that disturbed her to no end. The little slime ball didn't deserve to have an effect on her, after all. She breathed a heavy sigh and got up, grabbing her bag and walking away. No point in dwelling on it now. It was done, Theo was gone, and she decided to not let Malfoy affect her anymore.

o-o-o

It usually only happened when she was so dead tired that it was actually physically painful to keep her eyes open a second longer. Even then, however, her mind would still be so engrossed in what she was reading that she'd be able to pick up from where she left off with ease later.

This, however, was not one of those times. She was not dead tired. She was not sleepy in anyway, actually. Though it wouldn't be so impossible a notion since she was currently lying down on a blanket at the park with the sun shining on her and giving her body warmth in the relaxing summer day. The grass underneath her blanket was cushioning her body and a feeling of ease in her muscles was very welcoming.

Her thoughts, however, were not. That's what was distracting her to such the point that even her books couldn't bring her comfort. She just couldn't concentrate.

She lay the book on her side, officially giving up in trying to pay attention to the three passages that she'd read and re-read at least a dozen times in the past few minutes, yet still unable to take anything in.

Hermione released a frustrated groan and stared at the clear blue sky above her. She looked around and made out a total of three clouds, the stretched out wispy kind—the name escaping her at the moment—and watched as they passed through the sky slowly. It truly was a beautiful day. The kind of day when nobody should be stuck in an office; when everybody should be afforded that happy, liberating feeling that only beautiful days could offer freely.

But her heart was heavy and her eyes were sad as she stared overhead, lost in the expansion of blue above her. She could hear the happiness of others though; the gleeful laughter of children playing and excited chatter of adults further away. There were only a few families currently occupying the park even though it was a perfect day to be outside.

She had discovered it—this little park—almost ten months before on a chilly September day strolling around a nice neighborhood, stumbling upon it accidentally. She walked into the secluded area and looked around, seeing nobody and hearing nothing other than the creek running on the opposite side. Coming back periodically since then, she'd noticed that the seclusion she had found on her first visit was not a fluke—the park was uncharted territory and went by unnoticed by the masses, quickly making it her favorite spot in the city.

She loved living in Wizarding London and being in the center of things, but the everyday hustle and bustle of the city sometimes got to her, making her feel crowded and anxious. The quiet escape to this little spot would always do wonders at settling her nerves and allowing her to recharge in peace.

Which was why this so frustrating; it wasn't working.

She had too much on her mind; too much bothering her. She wasn't able to just take a deep breath and let it go and get absorbed in _Jane Eyre_ like she wanted to. Thoughts of Millie walking away after a fight, Ginny giving her a sad smile before she Portkeyed away, and Harry's solemn hug to her just before he disappeared in a flash of green flames kept invading her mind. For the past couple of years since her split with Ron she had always been able to file away her feelings of loneliness through the companionship of her friends, but they had slowly and surely been leaving her behind.

She felt alone. Ron had Katie and his quickly arriving son to take away the pain of Harry's sudden departure. But she had nobody. Nobody to come home to at night who could give her a hug and make her feel better. Nobody to share her inner thoughts and musings with during the late hours of the night over sips of tea. Nobody to lean on for support.

In the early weeks of their somewhat relationship, she had fancied the images of Theo taking up the empty places in those scenarios, but even she had known that he wasn't likely to last very long, if at all. Her feelings for him were as deep as her feelings for the other two flings she'd had since Ron, her last serious relationship—a passing fancy, somebody to make her smile before they too moved on.

It was sad and she'd laughed herself silly for thinking this, but Hermione honestly thought the only other person who had been in her life recently, even if was just passingly, that had developed feelings in her that went deeper than just a passing nod was Malfoy—which was of course ridiculous, seeing as how those feelings were neither good nor encouraging.

How pathetic was it that the only person in your life that you felt strongly for who wasn't a friend or family member was the person you despised more than most others? Very pathetic, she decided. Very pathetic indeed.

Hermione sighed and got up, resigning herself to the fact that the park's tranquility just wasn't working its magic on her today. Another day, she figured, as she walked towards the creek and ran her fingers through the cool water. Another day it would work.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Thank you so much for reading! Please review!


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: **I think it's time for Lizzy to visit Charlotte ;)

* * *

_August 14, 2003_

_Ginny,_

_I just received your last letter and, Merlin, your life does sound exciting. You must tell me what your next game is in England—I wouldn't want to miss it. I'll round Ron and Katie to come as well since I know Ron has been a little down and out since Harry left town._

_A lot of people have been leaving actually. You remember last month when you thought my life was exciting? Well, I must tell you it has calmed down considerably since your departure. _

_I know I shouldn't be offended or upset since we were seeing each other only casually, but Theo's abrupt departure and pathetic excuse for a goodbye has left me feeling thoroughly blue. I keep trying to understand what it is I did wrong and why he doesn't seem to care, but nothing is turning up, I'm afraid. At least he sort of said goodbye though, which is more than I can say for one person._

_Since I last wrote you, Pansy suddenly took off to Italy without so much as a word to Harry. Even though he tried to assure me that it was okay, I was quite upset on his behalf. They seemed to be going so strong—he was so happy—and then she just up and leaves without a goodbye. We had to hear of it from Malfoy, of all people. When Harry hadn't heard anything from Pansy for a couple of days, he finally stooped to owling Malfoy to figure out what happened and the git, in a short, curt reply, stated that she'd taken up a job offer in Milan working for a Daily Prophet subsidiary covering the latest fashion. Something she'd always wanted to do, he'd said. He also very rudely hinted that it was fortunate she knew someone there—an old boyfriend of sorts—and she wouldn't be in the foreign country alone._

_Harry was heartbroken, poor thing. It makes me so angry to think of what Pansy did to him—and the casual way in which Malfoy stated it, as if Harry hadn't been head over heels in love with Pansy. He doesn't show it, but I can always tell. He resolved to try and win her back, however, by swindling his boss into allowing him to be re-stationed in Rome for a few months. I must confess I miss him terribly, but he's doing what he has to do and I can't get in the way of that._

_Ron's been fine. He's been busy blustering over the soon-to-arrive baby and getting everything ready. You should see Katie; she's very cute when she waddles. She's nearly nine-months along now and very much showing. They make an absolutely wonderful couple and I couldn't be happier for them. I will of course give them the bib you included in your parcel. Ron will undoubtedly be upset that it isn't for The Chudley Cannons, but you know how he is._

_And thanks so much for the chocolates! I had completely forgotten to ask for them in my last letter so imagine my surprise when they were in the mail this morning. I've already eaten half the box but no matter. I don't know what they put in them but I swear to Merlin they are the best I'd ever tasted. Bless Spain._

_I must run since my lunch break is ending soon. Keep safe._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

_P.S. I won't be writing for another couple of weeks at least. Millie's invited me to stay with her for a few days next week and I cannot wait!_

o-o-o

"Whew."

Hermione stopped in front of the large assuming house and dropped the bags that she'd been carrying at her feet, finally relieved of the extra weight. She grabbed the large knocker and knocked three times on the oversized steel door, almost feeling the vibration from the bangs. It appeared he liked everything bigger, better, and louder. She cracked a smile wondering how Millie was taking it all.

Speaking of her raven-haired Slytherin friend, the door opened wide and she was engulfed in a great, big hug.

"Millie!"

"What is it going to take to stop you from calling me that, Granger?" Millicent asked as she almost cracked her friend in two.

"Miss Granger!" she heard someone shout and almost—almost—groaned miserably. It was his wife she was hugging, after all.

Millie released her and she turned towards the tall blond. "Mr. McLaggen," she said amiably, sticking out her right hand.

He shook it politely before turning towards Millicent. "My dear, would you escort our guest to her room?"

Millicent nodded before placing a welcoming arm around Hermione's shoulders. "Come on, Granger. You'll love your room, I'm sure of it."

Millie hit the nail on the head with that statement. Hermione gasped the second she entered the room and walked in slowly, taking in her surroundings. The room was beautiful, to be sure. It was impeccably decorated and furnished, leaving Hermione suitably impressed. The double bed in the corner looked comfy as she eyed the tan silk sheets and the fluffy blue blanket. The sun was shining on it softly, coming in from the large window opposite the bed. Everything was in dark wood and soft lines and she loved it.

Hermione had to admit that once she entered the McLaggens' home she couldn't escape the feeling of coldness as she saw the harsh lines and chromatic interior, but her room was entirely different and she knew Millie had a hand in that.

"So," she said as she spun towards Millicent, "what's on the agenda?"

"Are you hungry yet? We can have lunch in the city and explore. I really think you'll love Seattle."

"Please! And can we have lunch in Chinatown? I'm on a mission to hit all of them," Hermione stated excitedly with a smile. She had of course been to London's many times and it had inspired her to go to as many as she could. She'd ticked off San Francisco's the year before when she went on a trip with Harry and was excited to see how Seattle's would compare.

Millie grinned before rolling her eyes and walking out of the room. "Of course, Granger. We can leave in a few minutes. Let me just tell Cormac where we're going."

o-o-o

"Oh, my god," Hermione moaned as she took a bite of the deep-fried prawns that had just been laid out in front of her.

Millie threw her head back and laughed at what Hermione knew to be a gluttonous expression on her face but she really couldn't care. What was _in_ this breading?!

"Good, right?" Millie asked, her eyes sparkling.

Hermione nodded. "Best deep-fried prawns I've ever had," she said as she took another bite.

They were currently sitting at a sturdy wooden table under a dingy lamp in the corner of a restaurant that Millie had insisted they have lunch at. At first glance, Hermione had to admit that it didn't really look like much; just your regular hole-in-the-wall. What she'd come to find with hole-in-the-walls, however, was that it was usually where the best food was found, and this was no exception. Millie had just been telling her that the place, _Tai Tung_ it had said on the menu, had been there for years, established sometime during the 1930s.

After making the move the month prior, Millicent and Cormac had poked around the city, trying out various restaurants and visiting different shops, when a recommendation from one of Cormac's colleagues had lead them to _Tai Tung_. They'd decided to give it a shot, and after, just didn't bother trying any others in the area—they had found their spot for Chinese food and had no need to look elsewhere.

"So," Millicent started as she piled chicken fried rice onto her plate, "how's home?"

Hermione gave an abridged version, sticking to the facts of everyone's health and welfare and not really wanting to go into her feelings as of late. She and Millie had reconciled just the week before, after all, and she didn't want to bring her down or make her feel guilty in any way. "Home's good. Everyone's in good health and all that. Katie's close—she's due next month and I'm so excited to see little Corin. I hope he has red hair like Ron."

"And Ginny's in Spain?"

"Yeah, she left for the tournament about a month ago. She told me she's having the time of her life. Oh! I forgot. I brought some of those chocolates she always gets—managed to save a few for you."

"How big of you."

"Oh, hush! You know how hard that was for me," Hermione said, laughing.

"Pansy wrote me a couple of days ago, said she'd relocated to Italy."

Hermione nodded. "Yeah. Devastated Harry, too. He went after her, of course; going to be stationed in Rome for a month at least."

"How's Ron taking that?"

"Well, he wasn't thrilled but he has Katie and their new baby to expect—he has his hands full."

There was a pause as Hermione spooned some beef with broccoli onto her plate. There was absolutely no way she was going to be able to eat all of this, but at the first bite she just couldn't convince herself to stop. Besides, she was on holiday.

"And you?"

"I'm fine. Work has picked up a little since you left but nothing I can't handle. Keeps me busy."

Millicent shook her head. "No, I mean how are you taking everything?"

"Taking everything what?" Hermione sincerely hoped the conversation wasn't turning in the direction she'd tried to steer it away from. Feeling sorry for herself was one thing—letting another in on it, and Millie especially, wasn't something she wanted to do.

Millicent gave her a knowing look.

"Oh, all right. I've been okay. It's been sad seeing everyone leave, of course," she said, pausing as she looked up at her friend, "but it was bound to happen eventually."

Confusion clouded Millicent's features. "Everyone was bound to leave you eventually?"

"No. Well, yeah. I mean, we're growing up, right? We're growing older and making our way through our careers and our lives…things change. I was never under the delusion that everyone was going to magically stay in one spot forever. People move on." Hermione gave a sad smile to her plate. Harry would have been proud of her.

"Doesn't make it easy, though."

Hermione shook her head. "No, it doesn't. I'm sorry. I didn't want to bring you down. We just made up after that stupid fight when I was being so stubborn—I didn't want to put any more pressure on you."

Millicent, thankfully, decided to be gracious and dropped it. "Well, I'm glad you're here. We've got five days, Granger, to get you thoroughly Seattle-fied and I for one cannot wait."

Hermione grinned. "Well, what's next on the agenda?"

"The market, of course."

"Excellent," she said as she took another bite. "God, this is amazing!"

o-o-o

Hermione sighed, not wanting to close her eyes at the spectacular view but failing as the feeling took her away. It was a calm night so it wasn't too windy all the way up at the top. And it thankfully wasn't raining, so she wasn't soaked to the bone as she normally would have been.

They—she, Millie, and Cormac who had tagged along—had poked around the shop below, making her want to buy everything in the store as souvenirs for everyone at home before Millie had dragged her to the elevator, promising her she'd be able to shop later. As Hermione stood at the top of the Space Needle, letting the wind blow through her already unruly curly hair, she was glad she wasn't weighed down with twenty shopping bags.

On one side, the city seemed to sparkle beneath her. She looked closely and could see the rises and dips of the roads in the distance and marveled at the layout of the land. She'd had the same thought in San Francisco with Harry but hadn't had the chance to see it from a bird's eye view as she did now.

They'd taken what they'd been given and made it their own.

On another side was the view of the water. Puget Sound, Hermione thought it was. Or maybe it was Lake Union. She would ask Millie later. Cormac had tried to point out a few landmarks earlier like Safeco and the Seahawks Stadium, all of which she'd filed away to research later, but really all she cared about was the magic of the view.

It was a beautiful city she'd come to discover in her short time, and she dreaded having to leave in three days. After lunch yesterday, she and Millie had perused the Pike Place Market for nearly three hours. She'd managed to nab homemade soaps and lotions for Mrs. Weasley and Fleur, a package of Fran's salted caramels for Ginny, a box of truffles each for Ron and Harry (milk chocolate for Ron and dark for Harry), an old 8mm movie camera for Mr. Weasley, and a bag of handmade wooden alphabet blocks for Corin. She was still unsure of what to get for George and Angelina but perhaps she'd find it down at the shop below.

Hermione shook her head. Now was not the time to worry about souvenirs. She was positive she'd get something for everybody. This trip was for her though; the freedom of getting away for a couple of days and not having to worry about anything or anybody back home. For just a few days she wouldn't have to worry about Harry and Pansy, or work, or Theo, or Malfoy, or her own pathetically lonesome thoughts… just the view and the wind and the smell of the air in this beautiful seaport town.

"Hermione."

Hermione turned to see Millicent and Cormac walking together, hands linked. She hated to admit that their marriage seemed to be doing well so far. Cormac was attentive and Millie was always kind and courteous towards him. Though they seemed to clash every now and then, it was always resolved quickly and efficiently. And when Cormac would turn indulgent and become a bit of a prat, Millie always knew how to calm him down; she knew how to—and Hermione hated using this word in respect to the relationships between significant others—handle him.

Hermione was glad they had found each other as that would have been their downfall—she and Cormac's—since she herself did not have the patience that Millie embodied on a daily basis.

"Hey," Millicent said, finally reaching Hermione. "We were thinking about walking around below, maybe go on some rides. What do you think? Oh, and the fountain. You have to see the fountain."

"That sounds great," Hermione said with enthusiasm. "When can I poke around the shop below? I wanted to get a few Space Needle things."

"If we can find an empty alley or something to shrink the bags then we can do that right now. What do you think, hon?" Millicent asked, addressing Cormac to her left as they began walking towards the elevator that would take them down. "Think we can chance it?"

Cormac shrugged agreeably. "I don't see why not. As long as there's nobody around it shouldn't be a problem."

"Have you decided what to get George and Angelina yet?" Millicent asked.

"I don't know," Hermione replied as they walked into the elevator. "Are there any good joke shops here?"

"Good question. I don't recall hearing about—oh! Yes, there is," Millicent said excitedly. "And I've been wanting to check it out, too. I believe it's called _Ye Olde Curiosity Shop_. Tomorrow, yeah?"

Hermione nodded enthusiastically.

"It's by the water front, too, so we can see that tomorrow. Are you coming, hon?"

"No," Cormac replied, smiling at Millicent. "I have a couple of meetings tomorrow. If they end early though I may be able to catch up, so take your mobile?"

"Of course. I do hope it doesn't rain."

o-o-o

As it turned out, it did.

"Come on, come on, come on!" Millicent shouted back at Hermione. They were running on the docks between shops, both with their jackets over their heads since neither had an umbrella, and the bottoms of their trousers were getting soaked by the splashes of the puddles they had to jump through.

Hermione had never seen it rain so suddenly before. One minute she and Millie were standing on the dock staring out at the water eating their ice cream and the next they were practically soaked as they bolted towards shelter from the sudden onslaught of the rain. They hadn't let it ruin their day though, instead choosing to spend their time indoors and poke around the shops, waiting until it let up a bit. Hermione knew she probably should have bought an umbrella three shops ago but she just couldn't bring herself to care. She was having too much fun.

"Oh, god." Hermione sighed as she leant against the exterior of the building they'd just taken cover in, the ceiling's overhang managing to block most of the rain. Over the sound of the water hitting the pavement, she heard a ringing come from Millie's pocket.

"Hello? Oh, hi. Yeah, we just got there now, actually. Got caught in the rain. Yeah, sure. How long will you be? Absolutely, hon, that's fine. Okay. Bye." Millicent shut the phone and stuck it back in her pocket. She turned and opened the door to the _Ye Olde Curiosity Shop_. "Cormac's coming, he said he'll be here in a few minutes. Come on."

They both walked inside and stopped short, their heads moving slowly from one side to the next as their eyes took in the plethora of everything on display. Hermione slowly grinned. This was _definitely_ the place to get George's gift. "Wow."

"Uh-huh. Hey, look," Millicent said with a laugh as she pointed towards a sign. "You can get a ghost tour."

Hermione laughed. "I'm good on ghosts for a while, thanks. The Bloody Baron still gives me the creeps."

Millicent threw her a wry grin as she ventured further into the store. "He's not so bad, actually. A little rough around the edges, sure, but always a gentleman towards me."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You were in Slytherin. Of course he'd be amicable towards you."

"Is this some of your displaced hostility towards my house, Granger?"

Hermione spun around. That last question was not spoken by her friend, but by an equally familiar voice nonetheless. She came face to face with a very sturdy chest covered in light blue fabric and she trailed her eyes up the silver tie, stopping at equally silver eyes. She saw the shocking white-blond hair at her periphery, but if the voice hadn't given him away already, the eyes certainly would have. "Malfoy!"

Malfoy stared down at the surprised brunette and released a brief, amused smile. "Granger," he said with a slight tip of his head.

She looked up to see that the ends of his soft hair were wet and sticking to his forehead and she had the strangest urge to sweep them to the side, away from his eyes, with the tips of her fingers. She curled them into a fist at her side and stood still, keeping her gaze locked on his. "What are you doing here?" she asked, confused.

"I'm on business; came to check up on one of our affiliates."

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy here popped in quite unexpectedly to make sure we're running things right. But not an unpleasant surprise by any means! I'm glad to see that our funders are so invested—makes things run smoother."

"Indeed," Malfoy said quietly, never once taking his eyes from hers.

Just like their last two encounters, Hermione could feel her heart rate quicken and her breathing become labored once more, and she again wondered what it was about this man that brought out such a reaction in her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Millie grab McLaggen's hand and drag him away. Briefly she heard her mutter, "Come on, dear. Let's poke around, shall we?" to which he was very agreeable. Together they left the tall, assuming blond with the sharp grey eyes and the petite, curly-haired brunette standing alone, the two never taking their eyes off one another. Neither noticed Millicent's amused smirk as she turned the corner.

"And what occasion have you to visit the Emerald City, Granger?"

"Visiting a dear friend… who just so happens to be the wife of your business associate, I see."

"So it would appear. They're a good couple."

For once, Hermione agreed with him. "They are," she said as she finally turned away from his bright grey eyes and meandered down the nearest aisle, her senses feeling him follow her—at a respectable distance, of course. Hermione shook her head. He was a Malfoy after all. _Manners matter_, she heard in her mother's voice in her head.

"How long are you here for, if I may ask?"

"Just two more days. I leave Wednesday night."

Silence. She looked over and he seemed to be engrossed with a keychain. Upon further inspection she saw he was holding a small rubber raccoon by his thumb and forefinger and periodically squishing it around its middle, causing a strange brown goop to appear out of the raccoon's backside every time he applied pressure. With a raised eyebrow and an amused smile he peered over at her underneath his fringe and she had to quickly turn away to stop herself from laughing outright. She failed, giggles escaping her, and heard his deep chuckles behind her.

"You?" she asked.

"Oh, I'm afraid I leave even earlier than you. Wednesday morning is my last meeting here and I'm due back in London by dinner."

She hmm'd before turning the corner and stopping short at the sight of a gypsy staring at her. It was a dummy who was encased in glass, and Hermione was strongly reminded of one just like it that she'd seen in the movie _Big_ her parents used to watch on the telly as a child. She was just as creeped out now as she had been then. Upon further inspection it appeared her name was Estrella and she was eager to tell Hermione a prophecy.

Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw a large pale hand with long fingers holding a silver coin stretch around her and put it in the slot. Malfoy pushed the button and Estrella came to life, causing Hermione to gasp and take a step back, her back hitting Malfoy's chest. She was about to take a step forward, suddenly feeling as encased as Estrella, when she felt Malfoy's hand grab her hip and force her to take a step back with him, giving Hermione more room to step away from the eerie Estrella. As wary as Hermione was of Malfoy, she stayed put, more comfortable being near him than the dark-haired and painted dummy before her.

She took a deep, calming breath and watched Estrella shift awkwardly, her movements jerky and unnatural, and hoped her fortune wouldn't be told orally. She dreaded the thought of that thing talking. Thankfully, after a long minute, Estrella did no such thing and finally shut down, a card popping out below.

Hermione knew it was ridiculous, but she was truly hesitant to step forward. She had loved the movie _Big_ as much as her parents, always looking forward to the piano scene every time she watched it, but the dummy had given her nightmares as a child. And some fears were just that, childish. In the middle of silently scolding herself for being so silly—she'd battled Death Eaters for Merlin's sake!—she felt Malfoy's hand on her elbow gently lead her away from Estrella as he went and grabbed the card himself, standing before her, creating a nice barrier between herself and the dummy.

Hermione's anxiety began to ebb away and the dummies of her nightmares slinked back into the darkness of her forgotten memories once more. He was a pompous prat, but she had to appreciate Malfoy's intuitiveness. Clearly he'd noticed her reluctance to go near the dummy and sought to ease her wariness.

"Estrella's Prophesies," he said in low voice, reading from the card. "Hear no evil. See no evil. Speak no evil. If you follow this golden rule, life will be so much pleasanter for you. Avoid common gossip and the company of those who do. You have a very strong character. You are a very loveable person and have a very forgiving nature. You have had some trouble, but time will temper it. I see a long life and a healthy one in store for you. Although you are fond of good food and drink you know how to take it in moderation.

"Beware of a dark haired one who is jealous of your success in life and will try to make trouble for you. Drop another Coin in slot and I will tell you more. Your Luck Numbers, Granger, are three-ninety-nine, ninety-eight, ninety-seven, ninety-six, and ninety-five." He smirked and handed the card over to her.

She took it and quickly read quietly what he'd just aloud, pausing on the mention of a dark haired one. She tried to think of every dark haired person currently in her life, immediately bypassing Harry and Millie, as any trouble they'd ever make for her would never be out of jealousy or malicious intent, and could only name a few: Theo, Pansy, and her boss, Bletchley. She tossed Bletchley out since he had no reason to be jealous of her or cause her harm; she worked under him, after all. Hermione couldn't think of a reason as to why Pansy would be jealous of her, other than her long-term friendship with Harry, and tossed her out as well. After all it was Pansy that dropped Harry, not the other way around. That only left Theo. She couldn't think of any reason why he would purposefully cause her trouble, but his name and the warning swirled around in her mind before she tossed him out as well, realizing she was paying far too much attention to the prophesy from a novelty item.

Hermione looked up to see Malfoy watching her intently and blushed. She shrugged and put the card in her beaded bag before once again turning away, knowing he'd follow her. "Since when do you carry Muggle money around, Malfoy?" she asked, happy to get some space between him. His nearness did things to her insides that she'd rather not think about. She would much rather have a clear mind in which she could focus on his true attributes of blood prejudice and arrogance than how much she'd like to run her fingers through his hair and how good he smelled.

"I always carry whatever currency is appropriate for the situation. We happen to be in the Muggle world in America, thus dollars and the correct coins are called for. Surprised, Granger?" he asked as he inspected a small mummified woman from afar, the plaque indicating she was called Sylvia.

"Not about you being prepared, no."

"Just about me having any knowledge of anything Muggle, let alone standing where I am, amongst them." He turned to look at her and she gave up the pretense of trying to find the price of a dangling rubber shrunken head sporting a Beatle's haircut.

"Precisely. I think you forget that I know you, Malfoy. This ruse you're trying to keep up is not working, especially not on me."

"You're labeling me under the misapprehension of my past, Hermione, and I would appreciate it if you could wait until you got to know me better."

"Why should I?" she asked with venom in her tone and a glare to match. "So, you can drop me like you have so many others? Or perhaps you need another goon to follow you around mindlessly. Feeling your pride drop a few points, Malfoy? Maybe you'd like the feeling of a Mudblood simpering after you?"

"Do _not_ utter that distasteful word!" he said, fire entering his eyes at last.

She stepped back with wide eyes, surprised. If she hadn't been confused before, she was now. "_What_?"

"I said I never want to hear that word out of you again, Granger. Do you hear me?"

"Who are _you_ to tell me what I can and canno—"

"So," came a booming voice from her left, cutting her off effectively. "Who's up for some dinner? I was thinking seafood."

o-o-o

Hermione crawled into bed at last, exhausted. Up until the rain had started to pour down on them at the waterfront, she and Millie had already had a long day. Her adrenaline had kicked in, then wavered, as they had run through the rain between shops, then kicked in once more with Malfoy's sudden presence and their subsequent argument. Millie had been able to stop them before it had turned into a full-blown fight with wands drawn, but unfortunately that had not suppressed their tempers. Dinner was excruciating…the walk along the water even worse.

Malfoy had bought her a large red umbrella, but out of sheer spite and pride she had refused to use it on the forty-five minute stroll and she could feel a cold coming on. The stupid thing was currently resting against the wall by the door and she glared at it, as if it was the sole reason for her sniffles. Though it had only been a drizzle that she'd walked through, it had done its job.

She felt horrible. Not just physically, but emotionally as well. She knew the argument at the quirky shop had been her fault, but had been unable to stop herself in the moment. The feelings he'd been inspiring in her were too strong, too quick, and she'd lashed out—rather unfairly too. So, he carried around Muggle money; it wasn't that big of a deal. The only way she could justify it in her mind, however, was that once again he was confusing her and she did not like it. Could he not just stay on his side of the spectrum?

The worse part by far, however, was when the git had suggested to Cormac and Millie that they all rejoin again for breakfast the next morning. So, not only did she no longer have the luxury of trying to sleep off her illness, she now had to get up extra early to make herself extra presentable and not let on how miserable she truly was. And she'd have to spend more time with Malfoy. Groaning, Hermione pulled the pillow over her head and promptly passed out.

After what felt like mere seconds, she awoke and pulled the pillow off, the lack of air suffocating and found the room basked in a light blue glow from the sun shining through the navy blue curtains. With her hair plastered to her sweaty face, she groggily reached for her wand and gave it a feeble swish. Though it had done its job, her lack of enthusiasm caused the time to appear only briefly in a very light green that she could barely see before the numbers were released into thin, light green clouds of smoke. Nevertheless, she had caught the time and if her brain was still working right, her alarm would go off in…

_buzz…buzz…buzz_

Yep, she thought, as she flung her wand onto the other side of the bed and wearily sat up. Apparently she had slept soundly for a full seven hours, though she didn't feel it. She dragged herself to the bathroom, hoping that a shower would wash the sleep and cold off of her and delighted in the hot water pouring down over her, indulging in its liquid embrace for a full five minutes longer than absolutely necessary.

By the time she exited the room to find Millie and beg for a Pepper-Up Potion, she felt only marginally better. Perhaps she'd have a cup of coffee instead of her usual tea with breakfast this morning. Any help she could get, she'd take.

o-o-o

"You are a stubborn bint, you know that?" Millicent asked, pouring a measured amount into a glass vial and handing it to Hermione.

"I know. And thank you," Hermione replied gratefully, downing the bright purple potion in one go. Instantly she felt its effects as her head cleared and the aches in her body eased. She sighed. "Oh, Merlin, that feels better."

Millicent rolled her eyes. "Give me that," she said as she grabbed the vial back and poured another measured amount into it before stoppering it and tapping it with her wand, turning the vial plastic and therefore more durable. "Here. Stick this in your bag for later."

"Bless you."

"You know if you had just _used_ the umbrella—"

"I wouldn't give him the satisfaction!"

"That's your problem. Your pride."

"_My _pride?" Hermione exclaimed, following Millie down the hallway towards the door to the den where she knew Cormac would be waiting, next to the fireplace.

"Yes. Your pride. You don't have to hate him you know. _Especially_," Millicent emphasised, holding up a finger to stop Hermione's protests, "if it is merely on principle."

"It's more than that!"

Millicent stopped a few yards away from the door to the den and reached out a hand to turn Hermione towards her. "Like what?"

"Like his arrogance," Hermione said incredulously. Why was she being forced to defend herself against one of her best friends? "And his pride. And blood prejudice. And unfailing pretentiousness and self-importance. He feels like he can own the world just because he can pay off a few people that are as immoral as him."

"What are you basing this on?" Millicent asked calmly.

"What am I—what do you _mean_ what am I basing this on?" Hermione exclaimed. "I'm basing this on him! On my knowledge of him of the past twelve years! On his past!"

"Exactly. His past."

"What? So? He's… ugh! He is vile!"

"That's what you said about Cormac."

"And a bully."

"Which is what you once said about me."

"And has a menacing, icy exterior that nobody can touch," Hermione stated with loathing before muttering, "or would even want to."

"And if I recall, you thought that about Pansy only a couple of years ago before I managed to convince you otherwise… though with the turn of events recently, I might have to agree with you on that one. I still don't understand what happened there with her and Harry."

Hermione deflated. "What is your point, Millie?"

"My point, Hermione, is the same as it was three months ago. You need to stop judging people based on their past and give them a chance. He was an enormous git at Hogwarts, yes, but so was I and so was my husband. People change. You know that."

"I know. I…" She sighed. "Okay. You're right. I'll give him a chance. A small sliver of a chance. All right?"

"That's the spirit," Millicent said before wrapping an arm around Hermione's shoulders and steering her over towards Cormac who had been waiting patiently by the fireplace the entire time.

"So, you never got the full story from Pansy?" Hermione asked, grabbing a handful of Floo powder.

"No, she was oddly reluctant to discuss it—which I will admit was a pleasant change from the far too detailed account that she'd given freely beforehand of her relationship with Harry. Did you know he swears like a sailor just when he's about to—"

"Millie!" Hermione exclaimed, trying her best to clamp her hands around her ears. It was unsuccessful since her right hand was in a fist holding the sparkly green powder and her left busy clutching her bag. She could still hear Cormac's roaring laughter as he stepped into the fireplace before his chuckles zoomed away with the rest of him towards their destination.

Millicent grinned wickedly as she stepped in after her husband vanished, she too disappearing in a swirl of green flames.

Hermione rolled her eyes, doing her best to try and not remember _that_ particular piece of information. "Mariner Alley," she shouted, following the couple to the only wizarding community in the city where they were to meet the great blond git to whom she was meant to give this newfound chance to. An interesting breakfast waited, for sure.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

I chose Seattle because I know it fairly well, having been there many, many, _many_ times over the years. I think it would have been hard to try and convey the feeling of a city—with details of shops and the ambiance—if I'd never personally traveled there or explored extensively. Plus, I absolutely love Seattle. It's got its own vibe, to be sure. All of Hermione's experiences in the city are based on my own.

_Tai Tung_ is a real Chinese restaurant in Seattle's Chinatown/International District. It's one of the oldest in the city and truly has the best deep-fried prawns I'd ever had in my life.

_Ye Olde Curiosity Shoppe_ is a real place and the card Hermione receives is the one I did a few years back—quoted word for word. Since it has been a few years since I've been there, making my memory a little rough around the edges, many of the items the characters come across are either from doing a little research online or pictures from the shop's website. The rubber raccoon that Draco squishes is based off of a keychain at all the tourist shops in my town—though it's usually of a bear or something. It usually gets a laugh.

Thanks so much for reading and please review!


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: **I'm a little nervous about how this will be perceived. The proposal/confrontation scene is always a heavy one to undertake...

* * *

**Previously: **

"So, you never got the full story from Pansy?" Hermione asked, grabbing a handful of Floo powder.

"No, she was oddly reluctant to discuss it—which I will admit was a pleasant change from the far too detailed account that she'd given freely beforehand of her relationship with Harry. Did you know he swears like a sailor just when he's about to—"

"Millie!" Hermione exclaimed, trying her best to clamp her hands around her ears. It was unsuccessful since her right hand was in a fist holding the sparkly green powder and her left busy clutching her bag. She could still hear Cormac's roaring laughter as he stepped into the fireplace before his chuckles zoomed away with the rest of him towards their destination.

Millicent grinned wickedly as she stepped in after her husband vanished, she too disappearing in a swirl of green flames.

Hermione rolled her eyes, doing her best to try and not remember _that_ particular piece of information. "Mariner Alley," she shouted, following the couple to the only wizarding community in the city where they were to meet the great blond git to whom she was meant to give this newfound chance to. An interesting breakfast waited, for sure.

* * *

Hermione coughed lightly once she'd stopped spinning. She stepped out of the fireplace and felt a hand grab hers to help her out. She looked down in surprise to see a large hand with long, pale fingers holding hers and her eyes rose quickly, once again caught off guard by the brilliance of his intense gaze. "Malfoy."

"Granger," he said cordially, still holding her hand. He let it go and she watched as he balled it in a fist before speaking again. "I trust you had a pleasant evening."

_With the exception of the night sweats, achy muscles, and the runny nose, yes. Very._

"I did. Thank you."

He nodded once before turning towards a man standing just to the side that she hadn't noticed. "William, this is the woman I was telling you about," Malfoy stated before turning back towards her and capturing her with his intense gaze once more. Softly, he spoke her name. "Hermione Granger."

It was almost reverent, the way he said it, and she found herself lost, once again, in the intensity of his grey eyes and deep voice. He was an enigma, Draco Malfoy, and she was hesitant to explore. Intrigued, but hesitant.

"Granger, meet William Fitzhugh, an associate and long-time friend."

In the very corners of his sharp gaze she found kindness lurking in its depths, and that scared her more than anything. Twelve years she had known Draco Malfoy. Twelve years she had understood him to be prideful, callous, arrogant, and uncommonly rude; mocking her and her friends at every available turn. Never once just letting them be. Years of taunts and hexes he had thrown her way, making her feel like a disgrace and an abomination. Unworthy.

Granted he had practically disappeared from her life and her thoughts since the Battle at Hogwarts, and all signs pointed towards the possibility that he may have emerged such time a changed man… but she was still very hesitant to accept him at face value. Years of war and fight had hardened her heart and she had no intention of letting anyone in who didn't truly deserve it.

And she couldn't quite decide if Malfoy deserved the honour of having even that smallest of chances.

She finally tore her eyes away and turned towards the other man, finding his easy smile and warm, brown eyes a breath of fresh air. She smiled easily in return and shook his hand without hesitation.

She had hardened her heart, yes, but she hadn't become cold. Anybody who had never done her any previous wrongs always deserved a chance. And throughout the course of breakfast, she was glad for that, as William turned out to be an incredible delight.

She felt relief at not being actively charmed by a man for once. There were no ulterior motives with Fitz, as she had started calling him, finding "William" to be too bland a name for his colorful nature. Easy going, happy, and full of laughter, Hermione was infinitely glad that she had sat next to him and not the droll Cormac or the snooty Malfoy. Had the guy not been married with a child, she would have been very attracted.

"So, how well do you know Draco?"

Hermione deflated slightly, having become caught up in her good mood and Fitz's hilarious stories of his trek through eastern Asia. His recounting of his first trip to the local _onsen_ in Kyoto had her spitting out her juice, ruining all decorum. It was fortunate that they were in a wizarding establishment and the mess could be taken care of quickly with the swish of a wand. She would have been embarrassed had she not been laughing so forcefully.

"Well, I suppose that depends on how you want me to answer it. I'm slowly learning that I don't know the current Malfoy all that much. Malfoy as a whole, however, I'm more familiar with."

"You attended school together, correct?"

"Yes, the first six years of Hogwarts."

"And by your tone I'm inferring that you weren't the best of friends."

She snorted indelicately. "You would be correct in that assumption."

"He can be quite rough around the edges, though the years have calmed him down a bit."

_If you say so_, she thought but didn't voice. Instead, "I'm still not quite sure what to make of him, to be honest."

Fitz shrugged as he stirred more cream into his tea. "Fair enough. He is very difficult to get to know; always has his guard up. Though I will say I am lucky to be considered his good friend."

Hermione paused, the spoon of potatoes halfway towards her mouth. _He_ was lucky to be Malfoy's friend? That made little to no sense. "How so?"

"Oh, come on, Hermione. The guy's fiercely loyal and would go to the ends of the earth and back for the people he cares about." Seeing the skepticism present in her expression, he tried a different angle. "Okay, you know those people that are hard to get through, but once you do and you get into their heart, you know you'll stay there forever?"

Hermione nodded and cast a quick glance at Millicent. That description fit her to a tee. She was currently engaged in a discussion about the quirks of America with Fitz's sister, Alicia. Alicia was as beautiful as Fitz was handsome, with an incredibly sweet and pleasant personality to match. Between the two of them, they had enough friendliness and beauty to charm a room.

"That's Draco."

Her gaze then flitted over to Malfoy who was talking quietly with Cormac. She caught words like _briefing_ and _upsurge_, which led her to believe they were talking business. Malfoy seemed to have sensed her stare because his gaze became directed towards her. She sat still, unsure of what to do since she'd just been caught staring at him, and watched as he gave her a brief smile before turning back to Cormac.

She had to admit that the person sitting across from her couldn't possibly be the same person he had been in school. Hogwarts Malfoy would have _never_ smiled at her for even the briefest moment if he'd caught her staring at him…she just wasn't sure _how_ different the two were.

"You still don't believe me," Fitz said with a grin around his sip of tea.

Hermione smiled apologetically towards him. "I'm sorry, it's just that you're trying to undo twelve years of knowledge and experience I have about the man."

"Okay, I'll give you an example I just learned of."

"I'm all ears."

"Just a few weeks ago he saved one of his best friends from a broken heart. You know Pansy Parkinson, right? She was in your year at Hogwarts as well, I believe?"

Hermione stilled and the blood rushed in her ears. An image flitted through her mind of Harry on her doorstep with red eyes and a brow furrowed in confusion. Pansy had just up and left, leaving everyone in shock—most of all Harry. He never cried, but he had then and Hermione could never forget how distraught he was that day.

"Yes," she forced out, looking up quickly to see if anyone else had noticed their turn in conversation. Nobody had, apparently, and she was glad. It was a loud restaurant, after all, and she and Fitz had been talking fairly quietly. Other than when her orange juice incident had occurred, of course.

"Well, apparently she was dating this git who didn't really care about her. Before she fully gave over her heart to him, Draco pulled her away, not wanting to see her hurt. He managed to find her a place in Italy that she could stay at for a while to heal. Now tell me that isn't a good friend."

A loud clang startled everyone at the table as Hermione suddenly dropped her fork and stood up before turning and rushing through the throng of tables and waiters for the exit. She couldn't breathe, her heart was beating rapidly, and adrenaline was coursing through her veins.

She knew it! She damn well knew he was an evil bastard and she'd still let herself get swept up in his pretty grey eyes. Ugh, she wanted to kick herself for her frivolous stupidity.

Actually, if she was going to start kicking someone, she'd rather kick Malfoy—would really prefer to beat him into a pulp then throw every hex she knew available in her arsenal at him.

Even though she hadn't known it at the time since Harry was very quiet about his personal life, he had fallen madly in love with Pansy and had been destroyed when she'd left town without so much as a goodbye. To find that it was that scum's fault sitting and eating breakfast in the next room left Hermione seething. Hearing the door to the main dining room open, she grabbed her wand and Disapparated on the spot, only vaguely hearing Millicent's startled cry of her name.

She landed in front of the McLaggen residence and pushed her way through the gate, feeling the wards on the property welcome her presence as their guest, leaving goose bumps on her arms. She walked through the house, up the stairs, and down the hallway towards her room, slamming the door behind her and setting to a furious pace.

She had known he could be an evil, spiteful, little git. She had known he had the personal decency of a Flobberworm. She had known that he could care less about those he had deemed lesser than him and _still_ she had gotten swept away by his good looks and the way her heart went mad every time he neared her. She had let him get to her. Somehow, she had actually let him get to her. She had known him to be an utter prat too! He had said she wasn't worth his time not too long ago and for some god forsaken reason she had forgotten that.

_Plain, bothersome, undesirable, and not worth his time_.

She was seething.

Well, no more, she resolved. No more Malfoy and no more Pansy. Good riddance. She and Harry were good to be rid of them.

Her door burst open and Hermione spun around with her wand drawn, relaxing when she saw a very confused Millie in the empty space.

"What the hell happened? What's wrong?"

"I knew it. I knew that he was scum."

"What? Knew what? Who's scum?"

"Malfoy!" Hermione shouted. "Who else? I knew it wouldn't be long before that huge, incomprehensible _jerk_ would reveal his true colours. It was him!"

Her hands outstretched, Millicent looked at her in bewilderment. "What? What's him?"

"The reason Harry is alone and heartbroken in Italy! The reason why Pansy just up and left him with no explanation, no goodbye, and no care that she'd just ripped his heart out and stomped on it! You know how upset Harry was over that!"

"Yes, of course I do. What does this have to do with Draco, though?"

"Draco _sodding_ Malfoy was the one that pulled them apart! He is the reason that Harry showed up on my doorstep that day with tear stains on his cheeks. He is the reason why I haven't seen Harry smile in a month. He is the one that broke my best friend—I could kill him!"

"What?" Millicent asked softly.

Hermione looked up to see her friend fighting to grasp the concept, as if her brain couldn't comprehend the idea that Malfoy would do such a thing. Let her fight it, she thought. Hermione had known all along of Malfoy's true nature—now Millie will too.

"Where did you hear this?"

"From Fitz!"

A pause. "William?"

"Yeah, William Fitzhugh just told me the story. I'm sorry I left so abruptly. I just couldn't stay there any longer, sitting across from _him_."

"I just can't believe Draco would do this."

"Not so innocent now, is he?"

"I guess not. This just doesn't make any sense."

"Really, Millie, how well did you know him?"

"Honestly, the only person from my childhood that I'd kept in touch with was Pansy—I guess I was taking her word for it. She always spoke so highly of him. But then again, she always did. I just…with what he's done, this doesn't make sense."

"What? What do you mean with what he's done? What has he—no. You know what? It doesn't even matter anymore. I wipe my hands clean of that scum and that's that. Apologise to Cormac, Fitz, and his sister for me, please. I was having such a great time, but I can't possibly go back."

"I understand. Just blow off some steam or take a nap or something. I'll come check on you later."

"Thanks," Hermione said with a sad smile before climbing into bed. Her anger had taken everything out of her and completely used up the last of her Pepper-Up she'd taken. She would save the rest in her purse for later. Right now, a nap.

o-o-o

_August 26, 2003_

_Dear Harry,_

_I hope you are doing all right. I hate to think of you alone in Rome with nobody to keep you company, so far away from home, so do write back and assuage my fears, all right?_

_Seattle has been fantastic, really. I absolutely adore it here. The city has such a laid-back feel. Even though I believe a large part of that must be because there are coffee shops absolutely everywhere, all spilling with local bands and young people wearing beanies, I think it's the fact that it's right on the water. The sea always tempers a town, invites a mellow attitude about life that's refreshing—especially when you've been in the middle of London's hustle and bustle for so long without a break._

_So far, Millie took me to China Town where I ate at a restaurant called Tai Tung and had the best deep-fried prawns known to mankind, then we wandered around the local Pike Place Market for two hours. That's where I got most of everyone's souvenirs, in fact. I think you'll love yours… I confess I tasted one and it is delicious. Then on the second day Millie and I did downtown for most of the day before Cormac joined us at night and I got to experience the Seattle Center, including the Space Needle. A feat in engineering, to be sure—it's a lovely structure to look at, and hosts an even lovelier view from up top. I brought my camera and took a few snapshots, but I feel that it won't do the city's beauty justice. _

_Then yesterday I spent all day along the waterfront with Millie. We started the day by taking the ferry to Bellevue—a very pretty city across the water—to have breakfast, then came back and Millie took me to the other side of Seattle where we poked around shops, getting thoroughly drenched from the sudden torrential downpour—it certainly rains quite a bit here!—before meeting Cormac at the Ye Olde Curiosity Shop. That was where I got George's souvenir; I think he'll find it very amusing. It was a quirky little shop filled with everything you never knew you wanted._

_Unfortunately, however, upon Cormac's arrival he brought someone definitely not wanted and you'll never guess who. Malfoy. That's right. Draco Malfoy appeared out of the blue in the middle of Muggle America. You can only imagine my surprise. I guess his company is funding McLaggen's and he came to check up on them—you know how he is, must always make sure his money is always prospering in some way or another. Anyway, Millie stopped us before we could get into a full blown fight right in the middle of the shop, then he joined us for dinner where it only went downhill from there. Short story, it was a miserable evening and I have the cold to show for it._

_Which brings me to Pansy. I know I said some not so nice things and wasn't entirely supportive of you going to Italy to go after her, but I wanted to dedicate a part of this letter to my apology. It wasn't my place to say such things, especially when I don't know the particulars of your relationship. You have my full support, and I'll show you by sending your souvenir on an express owl once I return to London. I am sorry, Harry, and I think you shouldn't give up hope yet. Something tells me she cares about you greatly._

_Lots of love, and I can't wait until you return home._

_Hermione_

o-o-o

Hermione sent the letter off with the McLaggens' owl, Lysander, and watched it fly off into the distance. She had been wary of tying up the owl for so long since she knew he would be gone for a couple of days to deliver the letter all the way in Rome—and Hermione would have left by the time Lysander came back—but Millie had assured her it was all right. Plus, she didn't think she could wait until she got home to send the letter off anyway. She'd wanted to give Harry her support and confidence as soon as possible, having now realised Pansy's seemingly floozy nature was the work of the blond's malice, not her own disinterest.

Hermione was supposed to have joined the McLaggens for dinner that night out on the town but with the recent turn of events, Millie had managed to convince Cormac that a nice, quiet dinner at home would be better instead. After all, she had argued to her husband, Hermione still had a cold to nurse and shouldn't be running around at all hours of the night.

Cormac had relented and she and Millie were set out to go to the grocery to shop for dinner and dessert. Hermione was ever so grateful. She hadn't wanted to put a damper on anyone's mood, but honestly going out was the last thing she wanted to do.

She heard a quiet knock on the door to the guest bedroom and it opened to reveal Millie holding her coat and an umbrella. "Hey, are you ready?"

"Yeah," Hermione said as she stood from the desk and went to grab her own coat. She paused at the doorway and looked down at the red umbrella Malfoy had bought her the night before resting against the wall. She didn't want to use it, but it was raining out and she didn't want the chance to get sick any further than she already was. She picked it up before turning back to Millie. "I just sent it off. Thank you again for letting me take up so much of poor Lysander's time and strength."

Millicent turned and walked down the hallway, waving her hand behind her. "Nonsense. It's all right. He likes long journeys anyway."

o-o-o

"Do you think we should roast the garlic beforehand or just let it cook with the pizza?"

"I say roast it—bring out its flavors more," Hermione responded as she unpacked the groceries and placed everything on the island.

They had decided to make home-made pizzas, one Margherita for Cormac and two White Pizzas that she and Millie would share. Her mouth was watering already. Pizza had always been one of Hermione's favorite foods and she loved making it herself. Back before Millie had married Cormac, the two would get together every now and then for pizza and a film and they'd never strayed from their always faithful and delicious White Pizza, complete with garlic oil as sauce, feta cheese interspersed with mozzarella, kalamata olives, artichoke hearts, sun-dried tomatoes, and pepperoni. Now that Cormac was in the picture, however, they had had to buy some different ingredients since Cormac's favourite was Margherita.

Hermione smiled as she watched the care that Millie took in preparing her husband's dinner. It had only been a month, but they were already sweet and comfortable and Hermione's heart panged once again at the thought that nobody significant was waiting for her at home.

She had the Weasley family and her friends, of course, but nobody to spend time with on those cold nights when all you wanted to do was snuggle.

"So," Millie began as she thinly sliced the tomatoes that would top Cormac's pizza, "did you tell Harry?"

Hermione took a deep breath, arranging the garlic cloves in the small casserole dish before placing it in the preheated oven. "No, I didn't. I didn't want to put any more stress or worry on his plate. I know he's having a hard time already and didn't think he needed to find out how much of an utter prat Malfoy is over a letter and how much he'd ruined his life. I just gave him my blessing and encouraged him to not give up, since I know now that it wasn't Pansy's fleeting nature that caused her to leave; that she still probably really cares for him."

"Are you ever going to tell him?"

"Of course. I never could keep secrets, you know that. Especially not from Harry after everything we've been through together. Ron as well, for that matter. I want to be there, though, and tell him in person."

"Sounds fair. I still can't believe he would do something like that, you know."

"Don't kill me for saying this, but for a second neither could I. For a second I figured that maybe I'd been wrong about him, maybe I was letting the pain of our shared past influence how I saw him now, not letting myself look past it to see him for what he might truly be. But talking with Fitz this morning was like suddenly being drenched by an ice-cold bucket of water being poured over my head. I'd let my feelings overcrowd my judgment."

"Your feelings?" Millie asked as she assembled the sliced mozzarella on top of the pizza, reaching for the tomatoes next.

Hermione paused in adding the olive oil to the roasted garlic. "Are you going to make me say it?" she asked quietly. She began brushing the mixture onto the remaining two pizzas. Next the mozzarella and feta cheese, then the sun-dried tomatoes and the artichoke hearts, the pepperoni and olives going on last.

Millicent was quiet for a second longer before muttering, "No. No, I won't."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

o-o-o

"Oh, my god, I am so full," Hermione groaned as she leaned back fully against the back of the couch.

Millicent doubled over in laughter before groaning herself and lying on her side against her husband. "Me too."

"That, my dear, was amazing. I can die peacefully now with no regrets," Cormac said before placing a quick kiss against the top of Millicent's head.

Millicent smacked Cormac on the chest with the back of her hand. "Don't you dare," she admonished before looking up, alert.

Hermione and Cormac also turned towards where Millicent was looking as they too had just heard someone step through the Floo in the room down the hall, the sound of flames suddenly roaring then disappearing unmistakable. Quick heavy footsteps came down the hallway before Malfoy entered the living room that they'd been lounging in, forsaking the formality of eating at the dinner table. Hermione's eyes widened in surprise. It wasn't possible that Malfoy was such a common house guest that he didn't even bother with asking for permission to enter their home—Millie had said herself she didn't know him that well. Hermione looked at the couple on the sofa across from her and from their astonished expressions knew they were just as surprised as she was.

"I'm so sorry to intrude, Mr. McLaggen, Mrs. McLaggen. It is uncommonly rude of me to enter your home unannounced, but I needed to speak with Miss Granger." He turned to look at her and the piercing desperation of his gaze shocked her. He clearly meant business.

"Umm, yeah. Sure," she replied before slowly standing. She really had eaten too much. Together they walked out of the room and Hermione led him to her bedroom on the second floor, not wanting to be disturbed.

She walked in and headed towards the center of the room, stopping and turning towards him. She watched as he softly shut the door before facing her, then after several seconds of silence in which she was about to ask what he wanted, he started walking back and forth, pacing furiously.

He paced four full lengths before she decided she was starting to get dizzy and couldn't wait anymore. "Malfoy, you're about to burn a hole into the carpet—which normally wouldn't be a problem, but Millie's put a lot of thought and effort into this room. What did you want?"

He turned towards her for a moment, panting, before starting to pace once more.

"Perhaps you'd like to sit down," she offered.

He shook his head once, his brow furrowed and mouth set into a stern line, before he stopped, turned towards her, took a deep breath, then finally met her gaze. She absolutely hated that his eyes were such a brilliant shade of grey as they allowed her to get lost in them far too easily, as she was now. Currently, however, they were as intense as his body rigid.

"I can't do it anymore. I have to tell you." He groaned in distress. "Merlin, I don't know why I couldn't have just waited until we were both back in England, but for some reason I needed to do it now or there was a very real chance it would be never. And it can't be never, Granger. I… I _have_ to tell you."

His expression was pained, his voice desperate, and Hermione still had absolutely no idea what he was talking about.

"I don't understa—"

"I love you."

Her eyes widened in shock as she looked across the room at him, unable to tear her eyes away from the pleading in his gaze. "I…what?"

"I love you," he said again, his voice determined and more sure.

She suddenly had trouble taking in air and stumbled backwards, needing to sit. She lurched at a stop when her bum hit the desk and she leaned against it, finally looking away and down at the carpet. He _what_?

"I don't really know how it happened either. It caught me by surprise as well."

Her eyes snapped up to meet his and in them she found amusement and resignation, as if it was funny for him to feel that way about her.

"I've gone over and over this in my mind for months now, trying to tamper it and put a stop to these feelings, but I've so far been unsuccessful."

"Unsuccessful," she echoed.

"Yes. You can imagine why I wouldn't want to feel this way. We are in different worlds, Granger. You lead what I'm sure is a modest life with your Weasleys and I live in a large manor, most of my days spent rubbing shoulders with some of the most powerful people in the world during business meetings. Certain expectations have been placed upon me and in those, you are nowhere near. Falling for you has been a struggle that I've been dealing with, but it has to come to a stop now. I had to tell you. I came here, to Seattle, for the specific purpose of seeing you again."

"You what?"

"I had to be near you. I had to see you again. So, when I discovered you were here, I came here under the ruse of checking up on McLaggen's progress, but it couldn't be further from the truth. I pride myself on being a rational man, Granger, but when it comes to you, my good judgment is thrown out the window."

She felt sick, as if she'd been slapped. These…_These_ were the reasons why she couldn't stand to be near him. Conceited, self-important, bigoted prat. She cleared her throat. "Well, I hope your _good judgment_ will return now that you've accomplished your deed." She stood, silent, watching as a war of emotions stole his features. Confusion was the one she could easily point out.

"This is your answer?"

"What did you expect, Malfoy?"

"You're rejecting me," he stated bluntly, as if trying out the idea for the first time.

How could he have possibly thought any different? Oh, right. She remembered. His ego had blinded his _good judgment_—the judgment that had told him over the course of months that she wasn't worth his struggle; that thoughts of her should be cast aside and forgotten. Power, he had. Charm, not so much.

"I don't see how that could possibly come as a shock to you, but yes. I am."

"Might I ask why?" he asked, anger beginning to fill his tone.

Her eyebrows shot up. "You honestly expected me to embrace you after that little speech about how much you struggled with your feelings? How at war you were with them because they go so harshly against your good judgment that told you I wasn't even _worth_ the struggle? That tried to force you into remembering how unbelievably low I am in regard as to what has been expected of you? Couldn't fall for the dirty, Gryffindor Muggleborn, could you? That's too horrid a notion to entertain, isn't it? Did you really think insulting me was the wisest course?"

"No, that's not what I mea—"

"And beyond that, I have much more substantive reasons. You know I have."

"What reasons?"

"Harry Potter is one of my best friends in the entire world. I would do anything for him. What makes you think I would even be remotely tempted to take the man that is the reason behind his broken heart; the person that _destroyed_ him?" she said venomously, fire spitting from her eyes.

Comprehension stole his features.

"Do you deny it? That _you_ were in fact the reason that I opened my front door one day to find my best friend distraught, confused, and devastated because the love of his life had left without so much as a word?"

He shook his head once. "No, I do not."

"How could you do it?" she asked, bewildered at his lack of care—not for Harry, but for Pansy who she knew had to be as upset as Harry was. "How could you do that to your own best friend?"

"Because I felt that he didn't feel for her as she did for him."

"How could you possibly know that? You don't even know Harry!"

"No, but I watched them when they were together, listened closely when she talked about him. I paid even more attention to him and his actions. You yourself said he never mentioned her. It was clear that she was in far more than he was."

"What?" she exclaimed. "How dare you break them apart when you have no foundation for it! Harry is an incredibly private person who hardly ever talks to _me_ about his feelings concerning the people he dates. He and Ginny had been about to get engaged when they broke it off and it wasn't until the Ministry ball a few months ago—a year after they'd split—that I'd gotten full confirmation that he was even okay. He feels plenty, Malfoy, he simply doesn't _talk_ about it."

"You forget I was also at Lee Jordan's birthday party. I remember clearly how free he was with his affections for the various women that night when Pansy wasn't around. You think I would subject her to that?" he said, his tone equally as venomous.

"He was drunk! Not all of us are able to retain complete consciousness of our actions when that much liquor is involved."

Malfoy stepped back. "You condone his actions that night? Knowing he was attached."

She huffed a laugh. "Who do you think you are to judge anybody? When he gets only a few nights out of the year to blow off some steam around people he trusts and not have to worry about it being plastered across the papers the next morning that the _Chosen One_ went around the bend, then yes, I am okay with it. I am okay with my twenty-three year old friend taking a break from the pressures put on him since he was a child. You think it's easy being in the spotlight all the time, having the weight of the world on your shoulders at any given moment? Forgive me if I don't find it reprehensible that he is able to, for one night, take a step back from being everyone's savior all the damn time and have a little fun. So, I ask again: who do you think you are to judge anybody? _Especially_ when you know not of the circumstances."

"I stand by what I did."

"Of course you do. Can't have the great Draco Malfoy admit he made a mistake, now can we? Though I suspect that wasn't the end of it, was it? I'm sure other things influenced your decision to drag her away from him. How dare Harry think he can have Pansy, a pureblood? A debutante? Someone with old money and respect from those with the highest social standing? Can't have him messing that up."

"That thought never crossed my mind for a moment, Granger, and I would ask you again to reserve judgment when you know not of my character now."

"Oh, I know plenty of your character now. I believe you forget that I dated Theo. You think your name hadn't come up? You think I wouldn't have found out what happened?"

"Again I would highly suggest you watch yourself where he is concerned."

"What makes you think I can trust you—or would even want to—after finding out what you did to him? What struggles you put him through?"

"Struggles?" he said slowly before barking a laugh. "Yes, I'm sure he's _struggled_ quite a bit."

"You would think it's funny, wouldn't you? I'm not surprised, Malfoy," she said with disgust evident in her tone.

He stared at her from his spot near the door and resignation filled his eyes. "So, _this_ is what you think of me. I'm sorry, Granger, for thinking that after all these years you might have grown up a bit—"

"_Me_?" she exclaimed.

"—and learned to look a little deeper before making rash decisions and misplaced judgments. You think you're an easy woman to fall for? You think looking down on everyone because they aren't as righteous as you are is the best course of action? I had apprehensions about being with you, yes, but they were valid reasons no matter what you may think. We live in different worlds, Granger, whether you want to acknowledge it or not. "

She saw red. That was the only way she could explain it. "I don't know who you think you are, but don't you dare pretend to know me. I knew from the second I first saw your snooty, little face on the train to Hogwarts that you were the last person in the world I'd ever want to get to know or become friends with. And the man you've become is no different. You," she said lowly, venomous, "are the last person in the world I could ever fall in love with."

He stood still, staring at her intensely. The blaze she saw in his eyes mesmerised her, even though she hated herself for it. Perhaps they always would, even though he was the most disgusting person on the planet… perhaps she would always be captivated by his brilliant grey eyes. And then he spoke and she knew it was his voice, too, that enraptured her.

"No doubt Millicent is beyond worried. Forgive me for keeping you away from her for so long. Please enjoy the rest of your trip." With that he walked out and thundered down the stairs towards the den to go back wherever he came from. She collapsed into the chair at the desk and started crying.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Colonel Fitzwilliam's reincarnation, Fitz (or William Fitzhugh as I've dubbed him), is a direct reference to Fitz from _The Lizzie Bennet Diaries_. Again, I strongly urge you to check the series out. It's almost done (sob!) and is _so_ worth watching.

Thank you for reading. Any feedback is always greatly appreciated.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note:** Thanks for the feedback, you guys :) This chapter's a little shorter than usual; there's a fall after every high.

* * *

"How are you doing?"

Hermione looked away from the blazing fire to the woman sitting across from her on the sofa and smiled at the concern she found in Millie's large brown eyes. She turned her face into the fabric of the sofa, loving the feel of the fabric against her cheek before sighing. "Fine, I suppose."

"You don't have to be fine, you know. You can be sad, or angry… I'd be okay if you incinerated this pillow, for instance," Millicent said as she held up a fluffy beige pillow. "As long as you did it near the fireplace, of course, since I really do like this house and would prefer it to not go up in flames."

Hermione laughed. "No, I'm fine. You did your duty in numbing me and this," she said, holding up the glass of amber liquid she'd been holding near her thigh, "is definitely working."

"And when it wears off?"

"Then I suppose I'll have to know if that is the only pillow I can send to its doom since I'm rather fond of it. That one in the drawing room, however, might have to go."

Millicent grinned. "That would be the one Cormac's mother gifted us and I just might have to turn a blind eye when it disappears all of a sudden."

She held up her glass towards Hermione who copied the action.

_Clink_.

"Deal."

"I'm proud of you, you know. For standing up to him."

Hermione hmm'd and took another sip.

"Really."

"I don't know if there's anything to be proud of. I've been standing up to him since I was eleven years old and forced to learn that my kind was inferior to his."

"Yes, but that isn't the same when feelings get involved."

Hermione looked up at Millicent, unsure of where this turn in conversation was heading.

"I've seen the way you look at him, and that's okay. The point is that you saw past that and didn't let your character become corrupted by whatever you might feel. I know too many women that would have jumped at the chance to satisfy their cravings, conveniently forgetting that the guy's a creep."

For a second, Hermione was still trying to track how much this conversation applied to her, when it struck her that maybe it didn't. Maybe Millicent was trying to apologise for her own actions, not knowing that she didn't need to. "I'm sorry about before, in my flat that day. I shouldn't have jumped on you like I did and judged you so harshly."

"It's all right," Millicent said, waving her hand.

"No," Hermione said, resolute. "No, it's not. You came to me for support and I threw you in the gutter. I didn't bother thinking of your position or your reasoning. I want you to know that I'm quite proud of you too, for the life you've created here. It must've been very hard to drop everything and start new, but you did it and you did it well. I heard you talking with Cormac the other night. I know that you've not only managed to get his boss to take a look at your potion samples, but that he approved them."

Millicent looked down.

"Millie, that's incredible. You finally get what you've been working towards. And you get a man to stand by your side who adores you, and who you adore. There's no shame in that."

"Thank you," Millicent muttered softly before reaching up to wipe at her eyes. "Look at this?" she asked accusingly. "You're turning me into one of your sappy Gryffindors."

"And I just repeatedly insulted a man who'd declared his love for me. I do believe we've effectively switched houses and are now a disgrace."

_Clink_.

o-o-o

Hermione stumbled down the hallway towards the kitchen where she could hear pots clanging and a pair of voices, one male and one female.

_Need. Potion. Now._

She had a mind-numbing hangover from the night before of consuming a little too much firewhisky and only passingly acknowledged that her last hangover had been the result of Malfoy as well. Now was not the time to dwell on particulars, however, as she groggily muttered, "Millie?" upon entering the kitchen before flinching at another clang.

"Morning, Hermione," she said, chopping onions as her husband added water to the kettle. With the knife still in hand, she pointed towards the potion waiting on the counter.

Hermione gasped. "Bless you," she said as she unstoppered the potion and downed it in one go, forcing the thoughts of how the too-sweet chalk made her want to gag and focused instead on the potion's effects. Instantaneously, the veil lifted and her body rejuvenated, leaving her feeling much, _much_ better than just ten seconds ago.

"Better?"

"Loads."

"Morning, Granger."

"Good morning, Cormac. Thank you," she said, accepting the cup of coffee he'd just placed in front of her and taking a sip of the dark liquid.

As she sat, quietly drinking her coffee, she watched the interactions between the couple and smiled softly. She didn't understand it, definitely could not have foreseen it, but Millie and Cormac somehow fit. She was happy for them, but the niggling at the corner of her mind couldn't help but picture herself in Millie's place… couldn't help but think about what she'd given up.

She hadn't wanted it at the time, still didn't want it now—even though she now saw what kind of man Cormac was in a relationship—but the thought was there, nonetheless. Her mind then drifted over to Malfoy, last night, looking flushed, panicked, and telling her he loved her despite his better efforts not to, and her traitorous mind thought about what she'd given up there as well.

Hermione didn't know what she was waiting for, but she really and truly hoped that she hadn't turned it down twice when it offered itself to her so willingly.

"We were thinking omelettes this morning," Millicent said, putting the chopped onions in a bowl and starting on the bell peppers.

"Excellent," Hermione replied, happy for the distraction. "What can I do to help?"

"The cheese needs grating, if you wouldn't mind."

Hermione stood and went over the refrigerator to grab the cheese, then the second cabinet to grab the grater before making her way back to her seat and began grating the cheese. She knew that many witches and wizards would walk in on this scenario with a raised eyebrow and a haughty comment about how they could have just done everything by magic, but Hermione had always preferred to cook the Muggle way—and she knew Millie did too. There was just something about working by hand that made the food taste better.

Made with love, her mum would've said. Hermione sighed. She missed her mum sometimes.

Halfway through, she heard the fireplace in the den roar to life, then disappear as suddenly and she looked up in surprise towards Millie, then Cormac. They had on equal expressions of confusion, and before turning to look behind her to see who had just come through the Floo, she caught Millie's eye and recognition passed between them before panic settled in Hermione's gut. Why was he here? Again?

All three stood silent and still, waiting for the person to walk in the room when suddenly Hermione felt all the air leave as Draco Malfoy rounded the corner. He looked impeccable, which was very unfair for this early in the morning considering the brilliant row they'd had just the night before. He nodded towards Cormac, said good morning to Millie, then his eyes landed on her; and Hermione, for one brief, horrified moment, realised she was wearing blue puppy pyjamas and had forgotten to brush her hair before she'd come down.

At the time, it hadn't seemed like a big deal since it was just Millie and Cormac who would see her. However, now all she could think about was how amazing he looked and how dowdy she felt.

The look in his eyes, however, was not of repulsion. Rather they softened into something unidentifiable—or rather something she didn't want to identify outright. "Granger," he said softly with a nod of his head. "Sorry to disturb. And I apologise once again," he said looking up to the couple standing in the kitchen, "to drop in unannounced like this. I assure you it won't happen again." He looked back down at her. "But I wanted to leave you this."

He held out an off-white envelope with a large "M" emblazoned on the front, a watermark, and she lifted a steady hand to take it. Silently.

He looked into her eyes so intensely that she felt something bad would happen if she were to dare look away. "I won't bring up again the subject that you found so disgusting, but I will attempt to set the record straight, if you'll let me."

She gave a hesitant nod, still not trusting her vocal chords enough to speak.

His eyes roamed over her face and her hair one more time—she thought she saw the brief hint of a smile forming at the corner of his lips—before he looked away from her. "I'll see you at the meeting, McLaggen. Sorry again to intrude, Millicent." Then without another glance in her direction, turned abruptly and walked back out as quickly as he'd come in.

Once again, he'd left her dazed, confused, with her heart pounding, and unable to breathe.

o-o-o

She sat at the desk in her room, her nerves frayed after staring at the letter for the past hour and obsessing over what could possibly be in it. She'd managed to steal herself away under the ruse that she'd need an hour to get ready for the last bit of sightseeing she and Millie were to do that day, but Millie had been no fool. She'd just rolled her eyes, told her to go read her letter and that she'd meet her by the Floo at eleven.

With shaky fingers, she opened it and unfolded two pages of writing, front and back, in black ink. With a deep breath, she began.

_Hermione,_

Hermione paused, shocked at how natural her given name sounded in his voice when she'd never once heard him mutter it, when she suddenly remembered. At the quirky _Ye Olde Curiosity Shop_ he had said it, and so naturally that she'd completely bypassed it in the moment. She can't believe she'd forgotten about that.

_Hermione,_

_Do not worry. This letter will not be a long and drawn out explication of my feelings for you. I understood perfectly what you said last night and will leave you be on that account. The conversation between us, however, was illuminating in more ways than one, and with it arose many matters that I wished to settle—trusting, of course, that you haven't already chucked this letter in the fire and wiped your hands clean of me. I would understand if you did, but beg you not to. Not yet._

_I've come under the belated realization that I never apologised to you for the wrong doings of my past. For this, I am truly sorry. It is no wonder you think me so reprehensible when I have given you no reason to think otherwise. For that, the fault is mine. Hermione, I need you to understand that on the astronomy tower that day, I made the worst decision of my life by not taking up Dumbledore's offer and joining the light. I wanted to, so very much, but pride and fear kept me rooted to the spot, and then my chances were ruined when my aunt and her lackeys entered. What followed were just blank, empty movements as I followed orders out of fear for my family and myself. How could I turn back now with him in my home, watching over our every move?_

_And then you showed up, with Weasley and Potter, and I thought that maybe this might be my chance. I must confess that in those horrible moments of hearing your screams, I envisioned rescuing you and your friends and leaving everything all together. But again, fear stopped me and my chance of crawling out of my cowardice was thwarted and you disappeared as quickly as you'd come, safe. For that, at least, I was relieved. Starting that night and for the next few years following, I began having dreams—or nightmares, I suppose you could call it since they could never come true and I'd so wanted them to—of protecting you. I'd thrash throughout the night, only to wake up in the coldness of the manor in the morning and feel that pain of missing out on my chance once more. _

_You inadvertently saved me that night as well. The visions I'd entertained of becoming your rescuer and protector are what kept me sane for the next month—it gave me the courage needed to fight back against what I'd been taught my whole life, and subsequently, my own side. I am not the same person I was, Hermione, and I have you to thank for that. You have no reason to believe me, but since that night of watching you writhe in my drawing room, I learned that blood was of no importance. I'd begun to understand, and have understood for some time now, what you had been fighting your whole life for people like me to learn: that we are the same. We are equal. I am no better than you. Quite the opposite in fact. Please understand me—I am so very sorry for what an idiot I was as a child and the pain I ever caused you as the result of it._

_On the matter of Nott, I do heed my warnings heavily. We were once best friends__—_even more than Crabbe and Goyle, if you can believe it_—_because I saw him as an equal. We grew up together and my father became fond of him. So fond, in fact, that he took a great interest in his future. After Nott Sr. died in sixth year and Theo came to live with us, I became aware that my father had set aside a generous sum in order to fund Nott's desire to study to become a potion master. I had no problem with it. He was my best friend, after all, and anything I could have done to help him achieve his goals, I would have done so. After my father died in the final battle, I became the head of the Malfoy name, which included the household, property, the company, and our funds. I ensured that Nott received every knut of the inheritance he had been promised, and watched in fury as he squandered it away within weeks on booze, women, and gambling. 

_He came back two months later asking for more money, and I outright refused. He severed acquaintance with me and I had not heard from him at all until last year when Pansy came to me telling me she'd fallen head over heels for him. I was hesitant to accept their relationship, now aware of his character, but I wished her my best as I wanted nothing more than for her to just be happy. Perhaps she could be his cause, after all, and make a changed man out of him as you had unknowingly out of me. I was hopeful. Unfortunately, I overheard a conversation in which he revealed his true intentions. Pansy, upon her father's release from Azkaban in two years, is set to inherit half of her family's estate. Being a pureblooded witch from a very old family, you can only imagine how much that is—and Nott knew as well. What he hadn't known, however, and that which I made clear to him, was that her father had made a stipulation that any spouse she may or may not have would not receive a knut of it: the estate she was to inherit would be hers, and hers alone._

_He left abruptly and until seeing him with you in the restaurant that day, we hadn't heard from him since. You can only imagine the lengths of Pansy's despair._

_Which leads me to the matter of her and Potter. You may not agree with my actions, but they were done for her. I had already been forced to watch her heart be destroyed at the hands of a man who didn't care for her as he should have and couldn't bear to watch it happen a second time. Please understand that I did not wish to separate her from Potter, as a match between them would have been a delight, but only wanted to save her from further despair of falling for a man who would not fall for her as deeply in return. As you well know, Potter isn't my favorite person, but my actions were in no way of malicious intent; I never meant to purposely harm._

_I expect no return reply, just hope that you have read this with a clear and open mind._

_Yours,_

_Draco Malfoy_

o-o-o

…_yours…_

"Are you sure you're all right? Hermione? Hermione. Hermione!"

"Huh?" Hermione looked up, startled, to see Millie looking at her with concern and exasperation. "Sorry, what?"

Millicent rolled her eyes. "I asked if you were sure that you're all right."

"Oh, yeah."

"Convincing."

"No, really. I am. I think."

"And you don't want to talk about what was in the letter that has gotten you so distracted?"

"I would love to, but there's a lot of personal stuff mentioned and I'm not entirely sure it's my place to tell."

"This isn't like you to be so secretive."

"It's not so much secretive as trying to figure out my boundaries now. You were right. I'm too quick to judge and don't give people a chance—bad mouthing people I shouldn't and trusting others that don't deserve it." A pause. "Did you know Pansy was with Theo?"

"I did, yeah, though she never said much about why they broke up."

"She didn't?"

Millie shook her head. "No. It was kind of strange, actually, since they'd seemed so inseparable. But she said it wasn't a big deal and that some people just aren't meant to be."

Hermione cocked her head to the side, confused as to why nobody seemed to know about his true character. Why was everyone so secretive? The thought almost stayed her, feeling as if she too shouldn't reveal his hideous nature, but her morality won out. She didn't want anyone she cared about to be tricked by him like she was.

"I should have heeded Malfoy's warnings a little more carefully."

"What do you mean?"

She took a deep breath. "I'll leave you to use your discretion about who you want to tell after, okay?"

Millicent nodded.

"When they were kids, Theo told Lucius that he wanted to become a potions master, but after the death of his father, had no way to fund the training. Did you know that?"

"No, I didn't."

"Well, I guess Lucius liked Theo so he promised him he'd give him money for it. After he died in the Battle at Hogwarts and his son took over for the family, Theo was given the amount, but he didn't spend it on the training that he so supposedly wanted."

"What did he do with it?"

"Lost it; gambling, women, alcohol—you name it."

"All of it?" Millicent asked incredulously.

"Yep."

"But… but that has to be at least fifty-thousand galleons! Training to be a potions master takes years and it's incredibly expensive—which is why there are so few out there."

"I know, and he did it all within a manner of weeks. When he demanded more money, Malfoy refused and Theo dropped him, just like that."

"That scumbag."

Hermione smiled humorlessly. A word she'd once called Malfoy, though she couldn't think to do so now. "Has Pansy ever told you about her inheritance?"

"Yeah, she said when Nicholas gets out of Azkaban in two years she inherits half of everything. What does that…no."

Hermione watched as comprehension dawned on Millie's face before morphing into horror.

"He was with her for her _inheritance_?"

Hermione solemnly nodded. "As I said, I should have heeded Malfoy's warnings more carefully. I remember on our first date he'd asked quite a bit about what I did at the Ministry. I'd told him eagerly, thinking it nice that he seemed to make such an effort to be interested. I mean, he must know that I have no significant amount in my vault at Gringotts, but figured that my status at work would aid in raising his own—and just like that, my value as a partner went straight up."

"Oh, Hermione."

"It had to have been the reason why he so suddenly started pulling away, too. He'd finally discovered I had nothing substantial to give. I mean, don't get me wrong—I do my job and make my difference, but I'm far from having real power…the kind that he'd take interest in, anyway. It makes me sick."

"Well, just think about it this way. You got out of there on time, right? No significant damage to speak of."

"Yes, and thank Merlin for that."

Millicent shook her head and looked back down at her sandwich. They were currently at Alki Point, sitting on a bench and eating the sandwiches—roast beef for Millie and tuna for Hermione—they'd brought, watching the waves crash and the children play. It was beautiful, relaxing, and made Hermione miss home a little bit less, wishing she could stay here longer.

"Goodness," Millicent said quietly. "And this was in the letter?"

"A part of it, yeah. He also mentioned the thing with Harry and Pansy, about how he didn't want to see that happen to Pansy again—be heartbroken by falling for a guy that didn't love her back. I get it, but still don't like it. And am honestly still a little miffed that he didn't so much as apologise for it."

"It makes sense though."

"It does. I'm trying to figure out how to get them back together though since Harry does love her, and I now know that she really cares for him in return."

"What've you got up your sleeve, Granger?" Millicent asked, smirking.

Hermione laughed. "Nothing so far. I'll keep you posted though."

"Do, please. I get a little lonely all the way over here with no knowledge of what's going on back home."

Hermione grinned. "I'll miss you too, Millie."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Thanks for reading! Please tell me what you thought-particularly about that letter!


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: **Thank you for keeping up with me this far! I really enjoyed writing this chapter because it gets into Hermione's head during a time when she's confused and on the verge of distraught. Her world's just been turned upside down and sometimes that is a hard thing to deal with.

* * *

Hermione shut the door softly behind her and turned to look at her flat. It was strange to think that it had only been five days since she'd been here last, and yet, she felt so different. Everything seemed different now.

She remembered running around packing last minute things on Saturday before her Portkey went off, and the innocence of not knowing what was to come. How could she have known that the spontaneous trip to Seattle to visit her long-time friend would have changed her world view? How does one even prepare for that?

You can't, she decided as she made her way to the kitchen and put on the kettle. There's no way to ready yourself for a life change, even when you know it's coming—which she hadn't. You just let it happen and figure out how to deal with the shockwaves it creates.

o-o-o

"Hermione!"

"Ginny!"

The two women met in the middle of the room and wrapped their arms around each other. Vaguely she heard Ron mutter from somewhere to her right, "Geez—it's only been a month and a half. You two act like you haven't seen each other in years."

"Oh, hush, you big oaf," Ginny admonished as she released Hermione. "It feels like that long, doesn't it?"

Hermione smiled and nodded lightly.

Ginny must have seen something in her expression, however, because concern edged into the corner of her gaze and she spoke quickly. "Come. You have to tell me all about Seattle."

"Oi! Why you gotta drag her away? What if I want to hear too?" asked Ron as he grabbed for a roll Mrs. Weasley had just set to the side.

Ginny rolled her eyes before stopping and turning towards Hermione. "Was Seattle beautiful?"

"Yes, very."

"And Millie is okay?"

"Absolutely. She's doing great."

"There," Ginny said towards Ron. "That's all you wanted to know anyway, right?" She turned and walked out of the room, dragging a laughing Hermione with her. "Come on."

Ginny led her outside and towards the backyard where she sat her down unceremoniously on the bench by her mum's garden.

"Now," she said as she plopped down on the bench beside her, "tell me all about your trip."

"It was incredible. Seattle is really beautiful. I think you'd really like it, Ginny."

"I'd like to go sometime."

"You should. Everyone there is so calm and there are cute little coffee shops everywhere, and… I don't know, something about it being a seaport town, I suppose, that just makes it feel clean and exciting."

"Sounds great. What did you do while you were there?"

Hermione grinned. "Everything we could fit in! I only had five days but Millie showed me everything she could. I can't decide which was my favourite: the market, walking along the water front, or the top of the Space Needle. Or, oh, Merlin, the deep-fried prawns and chicken fried rice at this restaurant in Chinatown."

Ginny smiled. "It sounds like you had a great time."

Hermione nodded. "I did."

"Then why did you look so sad?"

"What?"

Curses, she'd never been able to keep anything from Ginny—not that it would have done anything to try. She could always see right through her.

Ginny looked at her like she wasn't fooling anybody.

And therein lie the rub. She couldn't hide how much the trip affected her, yet she didn't want to let everyone in on why. What had happened felt deeply personal, and to tell one thing would've meant having to divulge everything—and Hermione was not ready for that, not when she was still trying to figure out how _she_ felt about it all. But it was Ginny sitting in front of her and Hermione didn't feel comfortable with leaving her out of her life so she told only a small version of the mountain of feelings she was battling.

"I've just been sad, I guess; dealing with the change. You should see Millie. She's doing so great. And Cormac's actually a decent husband. I'm serious!" she exclaimed when she saw Ginny's disbelieving look. "I couldn't believe it at first either, but he's kind, and attentive, and dotes on her, and they, strangely, work. Plus she's doing well with her work too. Cormac's boss loved Millie's potions and has decided to give her a job in one of his labs and fund her research."

"You're kidding," Ginny said with wide eyes.

"No! And it's only been a month."

"She's been working for this for years! She must be so excited!"

"She is. She really is. I'm so proud of her. But seeing her take charge of her life and beat the odds just… oh, this is really terrible of me."

Ginny's eyes softened into sympathy and she reached out to touch Hermione's arm in support.

Hermione shook her head. Ginny was so like her mother sometimes that it made Hermione want to cry. She felt all of her wariness ebb away. "It just made me think about how I'm not. I'm stuck in the same spot as I was months ago, yet everyone is moving along. Ron's about to welcome a beautiful baby boy into the world that he'll get to coddle and mess up in his own special way."

Ginny laughed.

"Harry's off in Rome, working on tough, foreign cases that he never would have seen had he stayed in England. And he went out there to go after the love of his life and I have full faith he'll succeed. Then they'll go on and get married and have little raven-haired babies with bad vision and he'll have everything he wants. And you," Hermione said softly as she looked at her friend, "are rising higher and higher practically by the second. Soon the whole world will know your name. I know all of England does, what with your name plastered across the front pages yesterday. And this isn't jealousy I'm spouting. I am so proud of you, Ginny. You're doing really great and I'm so happy that you're successful and living your dream. But with everyone moving on, it just reminds me that I'm not."

"Oh, Hermione. Everyone moves at their own pace, you know that."

Hermione nodded.

"And don't worry about your pace because I think you're doing phenomenally. Just because the circumstances in a few people's lives have changed in the last few months doesn't detract from your own successes. The place you're at in your career didn't happen overnight—you worked for it and achieved it, and are now an important cog in the workings of your department. Don't forget that."

"Thanks, Gin."

"Besides, things might pick up soon. Theo's coming back to town soon, isn't he?"

"Oh, I don't think I want to get into that, Ginny."

Ginny looked at her with frown. "Why not?"

"I just…" Telling Millie the reason why the guy was such a bastard was one thing since Millie was a good friend of Pansy's, who a large part of the reasoning surrounded around. Ginny, however, was more removed from the situation and the people and Hermione didn't feel comfortable sharing people's inner secrets with those who weren't immediately concerned. "I just don't feel that way about him anymore. The guy was pretty rubbish near the end, wasn't he?"

"True. I still don't understand how he could think to leave without at least saying goodbye in a timely manner."

Hermione nodded as she wrapped her arm around Ginny's waist as they made their way back to the kitchen where the food would certainly be waiting. "Right. And I do believe I deserve more."

"Absolutely."

o-o-o

"Coming!"

Hermione walked quickly towards the door as the knocks were growing to increasing frequency. The illogical part of her brain got her worrying that something bad had happened, completely forgetting that in truly dire cases she would have been greeted by a letter from an express owl, a head in her fireplace, or a message from a Patronus, rather than someone coming all the way to her flat and past her wards just to be polite and knock on her door rather than knock it down.

"Harry!" she cried in surprise upon opening her front door. She swallowed his laughs by hugging the air out of him.

"Can't. Breathe."

With a grin she let up and pulled him inside. "What are you doing here?"

"Came to give you this, of course," he said, holding out a small package. "Happy birthday."

"Thank you," she said accepting the package. "But you didn't have to come out here all this way. You had another couple of weeks, you could have just given it to me then."

"Open it."

Noting his insistent tone, confused by it, she did as he bade. She sat on the arm of the sofa in her living room and opened the package. Sifting through the abundance of bright yellow tissue paper, she came across a thin square box. Opening it, she gasped. "Harry, these are gorgeous!"

"Yeah?" he asked with raised eyebrows.

Hermione nodded as she looked back down at the pair of earrings. They looked like something one would find at an antique shop; silver-plated wire in a dangling floral design, like an open blossom. They were complex, but elegant, and suited her perfectly. "Thank you."

"There's something else in there too."

She dug further and came across a medium-sized, soft cover book. _Corelli's Mandolin_. It was well-worn with the corners bent and Hermione smiled—it had been loved.

"I was poking through one of the book shops and came across it; thought you might like it. One of the characters is Italian, I believe, so it's a bit fitting, yeah?"

Hermione grinned and went up to hug her best friend. "Thank you so much!"

"Not a problem. Can I steal you away for lunch or have you got plans?"

"I don't actually. I convinced everyone to join together tonight at the Burrow and have the celebration then. I wanted a little time for myself, but I suppose you'll have to do."

Harry laughed. "Gee, thanks."

o-o-o

"Are you coming tonight?" Hermione asked when they were seated. Harry had tried to take her to some place nice since it was her birthday, but she told him in no certain terms that she couldn't give a fig about all that and just wanted to catch up, so they were here, at the Rose & Crown.

"Sorry, can't. I'm only here for a couple of hours, then I've got to head back."

"Well, that's all right."

"I will be heading over there after we've finished eating, however, since I've got some news to deliver."

"Oh?" Hermione asked as she set the menu down. Something in his tone made her think she needed to pay attention.

"Yeah, I…I came to deliver your gift to you in person now because I won't be here to do it in two weeks."

"Why ever not?"

"Because I won't be coming back, not for a while at least."

Hermione's brow furrowed in confusion. "How come?"

"I convinced my boss to extend my stay until January."

"Until January?" Hermione exclaimed. "But that's three and a half months away!"

"I know. And I'm sorry, but I need to do this."

Hermione looked at her best friend and saw the pain surface in his expression. "What's wrong?"

"First, I wanted to thank you for your letter. It meant a lot to me, Hermione. Especially the end, with your blessing. I'd started to give up hope by the time it arrived."

"And now?"

"And now I just keep trying, I suppose. I did try in the beginning but after a while I gave up and decided to just let her come to me. I haven't figured out the particulars yet, but I can't give up on her yet, Hermione."

"I know. It's okay."

"And I'm staying for me. It's been good, being away. I'm not as well-known there. Every time I walk down the street for some milk I'm not bombarded by journalists and photographers asking me if I've got someone new in my life or what my favourite colour is. It's been peaceful."

He paused as their tea came and she watched him stir in two drops of cream and one sugar.

"This is the direction my life has taken me, and I'm running with it."

"Harry, that's fine. You don't need to apologise or explain yourself. If this is what you want to do, then do it."

Harry smiled gratefully. "Thanks. I thought you'd give me a harder time."

"Why's that?" she asked, confused.

"'Cause Gin's said you've been having a rough time with everyone gone."

"Oh, I'm going to kill that girl," Hermione muttered. "I'm fine, Harry. Don't worry about me. Just a lull, is all."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, and will you order now please? I'm hungry!"

"All right, all right," he said, finally looking down at his menu. "Now, you've got to tell me all about Corin."

"Oh, my god," she gasped. "He is, without a doubt, the most adorable baby you've ever seen."

o-o-o

Her quiet hamlet of tranquility was bringing her only fleeting comfort—the kind that soothed the mind for that brief moment when you needed it. She needed something to soothe the soul, the heart.

It was an early Sunday morning—she hadn't been able to sleep—and the only sounds she could hear were of the birds in the trees chirping delightedly to each other and the babbling of the stream she stood near. She looked near her feet and bent down to pick up a smooth, flat rock—the kind her dad would make her look for when she was a child. She bent at an angle and threw the rock as hard as she could, smiling proudly when it skipped three times before sinking below, carried away by the current.

She couldn't even remember the last time she'd done that with her father. Before the war started, to be sure—before she'd wiped his and her mum's memory. She groaned. Everything was so messed up. And it was all her fault.

Everybody kept asking her if she felt okay, if she was all right, and she was tired of sending them smiles that didn't quite reach her eyes and assuring them that yes, everything was all right. She wanted to scream her frustration, her doubt, her guilt, her anger and sadness. But she couldn't, because that wouldn't fix anything. It felt like her burden to bear, and she had to do it alone.

She and her parents used to be so close—she used to not be able to wait to come home during her breaks at Hogwarts just bursting with new knowledge and information to share. Her letters home would be so heavy that she swore the owls would glare at her, even after she'd fed them more than enough treats. But that had all changed, and she had been the one to do it.

However, if given the choice, she would do it again. She'd rather have the feeling she carried now—the guilt and sadness at the practically non-existent relationship she had with her parents—than have been worried the whole of seventh year whether they were safe or not, whether they were alive or not. She hadn't counted on this, though, because throughout those nine months of feeling at peace about their safety, she'd managed to convince herself that with time and a lot of apologies, everything would eventually sort itself out.

It hadn't.

It was a terrible thing, Hermione thought as she grabbed another thin, perfectly shaped stone and chucked it in the water, when you greeted your parents and saw fear in their eyes; when they checked your hand to see if you were carrying a wand instead of meeting your eyes with a smile.

She had tried so many times throughout the years, and she would keep trying—they were her parents after all—but she was running out of ideas. Maybe she needed to just face facts. Her parents feared her and she had instilled that. She would never truly have a comforting relationship with them again. And the only people she'd skip rocks into the water with would be Hagrid and George, the only people she knew of who could do it.

And then there was Malfoy; an enigma so mysterious that even she, with all her books and cleverness, couldn't figure him out. Ever since she had the displeasure of looking in on the compartment that housed Malfoy and his prat bullies while looking for Trevor on that very first ride on the Hogwarts Express, she had loathed him with every fiber of her being. Throughout the years it had intensified and waned, depending on the status of their bickering and the frequency of their meetings, but it had always been there: that hatred. Only now, however, she couldn't say for sure that it had always been hatred in the true sense of the word. Voldemort, she'd hated. Bellatrix Lestrange, she'd hated. She was coming to the conclusion, however, that Draco Malfoy had only been a very intense and prolonged dislike that had stretched into her adult years.

He had been a child, she knew, and spouting the filth that he'd been force fed since birth. Even she couldn't say with absolute certainty that had she been raised differently she would have acted one way or the other. Still, the moments when he'd called her a Mudblood or glared at her with such disgust had hit hard to her self-esteem.

She laughed as she knelt down and reached her hand out to let the cool water flow through her fingers. She could probably even thank Malfoy, for it was his attacks that had led her to study harder and longer in order to prove herself.

Now, however, she had no idea what to think of him. The hatred was gone, if it was ever there. The displeasure remained, even if it was in a smaller dosage this time—how could he not apologise for what he did to Harry and Pansy, the prat? And though his confession had been flattering, his elaborate reasoning as to why he shouldn't even feel that way in the first place stung… she still wasn't good enough for him. He was expected to fall in love with and marry a rich, beautiful, pureblood with high social status, not a dowdy Muggleborn like her—and he had made sure she knew it.

Confusion, however, was the leading emotion warring her these days when it came to him. Confusion and frustration. Which was absurd, really. This was Draco Malfoy, after all. He was still a pompous, pureblooded prat, but instead of being a pompous, pureblooded prat with a cold, dark heart that didn't care for anybody, he was a pompous, pureblooded prat that actually gave a damn… and that pissed her off to no end. He wasn't supposed to be confusing, dammit. He was supposed to stay on his end and she on hers and that was that. But he went off-script and left her stranded with no idea on how to deal with the change.

Hermione groaned. This was ridiculous. She was likely to never see him again so all this fretting and worrying was doing her absolutely nothing. She indulged herself in one more moment of thinking of his soft, platinum blond hair and brilliant grey eyes—picturing easily the way they would soften whenever he'd look at her—and forced back tears as she placed both of her hands in the cool, flowing water, letting the stream act as a symbol of her washing her hands of him, vowing to think of him no more.

o-o-o

"Come on!" Ginny shouted as she tugged Hermione towards the double doors where the party was being held.

"But, Ginny! This outfit is far too scandalous," Hermione said as she looked down at herself in horror for the tenth time that night.

"Oh, calm down, you prude. One, it's a costume party and everyone will be dressed in every character imaginable for the night. Two—and trust me on this—compared to the other girls in there, you're costume won't be even half as bad. And three, you're wearing a mask."

Hermione snorted. "Right, because this," she said as she held up her wildly curly and very identifiable hair, "won't be recognizable at all."

Ginny turned her head on its side and stared at her in reflection. "Hmm, you're right about that." She took out her wand and pointed it at Hermione's head.

With a swish, Hermione, out of the corner of her eye, saw her brown locks turn platinum blonde and scowled at Ginny. "Ginny! Did it have to be _this_ colour?" Now she'd go crazy all night thinking she'd see him out of the corner of her eye, only to realise it was her own hair she'd caught a glimpse of.

"Yes, because it goes perfectly with…" Ginny pointed her wand at Hermione directly in her face, "…your pretty, ice-blue eyes!"

Hermione muttered under her breath some choice words before slipping her mask on, wishing for the fortieth time that night that she _hadn't_ brought Ginny along to go costume shopping. She looked back down at herself, shaking her head in exasperation, before looking behind her to make sure the wings were in place. They were.

When she'd looked in the mirror earlier that night, she'd had to admit she looked pretty incredible. The fairy costume Ginny had chosen for her fit her perfectly, accenting her curves in all the right places and making her feel like a vixen. The top part of the dress was bodice-like in design, tying up in the back, while the bottom half stopped about five inches above her knee and flared out from the mounds of tulle, making it very poofy. It was black mostly, with a navy blue, satin underlay and stitching; the wings and mask matching in color.

The only problem was that she didn't particularly feel like being a vixen tonight. She'd have been much happier staying home with a carton of ice cream and watching old horror films, but Ginny had been adamant. _We've got tickets_, she'd said, _and might as well not waste them!_ Hermione would like to have throttled the girl.

"Now, come on!" Ginny said excitedly before turning to open the doors.

"It just isn't fair! Your dress is longer," Hermione exclaimed, following Ginny who had dressed as a pirate wench. The noise from the party drowned out Ginny's laughter and together, they walked in to Parvarti's Annual Halloween Masquerade.

Hermione hadn't been lying. Ginny's skirt was longer, but Hermione knew she wouldn't be comfortable in that either. The bottom of her pirate wench's costume hit Ginny about mid-calf, but had a slit that rose to the top of her thigh. The rest of the costume was a combination of silk, leather, and strategic draping that flowed and shifted easily with Ginny's movements. Her black—yes, black, as Ginny had glamoured her features as well—hair had been tied back in a large red bandana, completing the effect.

After an hour and a half of socializing, Hermione had decided to call it quits and was just finishing off her last Blood Thirsty cocktail—the tastiest of the four Halloween-themed drinks available—when she heard it.

"Aren't you a luscious treat?" came a very familiar voice. "Feel free to hit me with your fairy dust any time you want to, baby. I do love to fly."

Hermione turned around slowly with a smirk and looked up into the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. Apparently he felt no need to hide his identity.

"Hello, Theo."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Thanks for reading! A lovely Theo confrontation awaits next week :)

"Therein lies the rub" is from Shakespeare's _Hamlet_—quoted from his famous _To be or not to be_ soliloquy.

The Blood Thirsty cocktail is one of the four Halloween-themed drinks suggested by Oprah and is comprised of 1 ½ ounce blood orange juice, ½ ounce pomegranate juice, ½ ounce fresh lime sour, 2 ounces tequila. Shake with ice and strain into a cocktail glass. Sounds pretty tasty!


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: **Two more chapters left after this!

* * *

**Previously:**

"Aren't you a luscious treat?" came a very familiar voice. "Feel free to hit me with your fairy dust any time you want to, baby. I do love to fly."

Hermione turned around slowly and looked up into the bluest eyes she'd ever seen with a smirk. Apparently he felt no need to hide his identity.

"Hello, Theo."

* * *

Theo's eyebrows rose up in surprise before a devilish smirk stole his features. "Well, it would appear we've met before then. What's your name, honey?" he asked silkily as he moved closer towards her.

Hermione took a half-step back as she fought against the impulse to roll her eyes. In one smooth motion she took off the mask, knowing that in doing so her glamoured features would return to normal. The mask was a Weasley's Wizard Wheezes item and another very impressive bit of magic. Once the mask was placed on, it would recognise any other magical changes in the person—colour-changed hair for instance—and bond with it, so that when the mask was taken off, it took the changes with it. Replacing the mask had the same effect, backwards. Until spelled otherwise, every time Hermione would put the mask back on, her hair would return to platinum blonde and her eyes to ice-blue. She, however, felt she was done for the night with thinking she saw Draco Malfoy at the corner of her vision every ten seconds.

She watched as his eyes widened in surprise for a brief second before his signature charming smile formed on his face.

"Hermione," he said cordially.

Hermione looked deep into his eyes, and with it, discovered a few things she'd never noticed before. One was that is smile did not reach his eyes; two, there was no warmth in his electric blue gaze; and three, she found that when she approached him as she had Cormac in the past, with the resolution that she would not be having the pants charmed off of her no matter how hard he tried, she wasn't. He had very little effect on her. She had only thought he had, had only let herself get swept up.

The truth shall set you free.

"I see you're back from…wherever it is you went off to."

"Yes, it was a good trip, but I'm glad to be back where I belong. So sorry I didn't owl you to tell you I'd returned. Been busy, you know."

Hermione nodded once. "It's quite all right, I assure you."

Theo hmm'd before looking up and down at her, stopping at the top of her head. "You know, I'm shocked that you'd even consent to having your hair that colour, if even for the night. Far too Malfoy-like for my taste."

"Oh, I don't know," she said as she fingered her brown curls. "I find myself rather liking that particular hair colour."

"Oh? I suppose you'll be telling me you like the man attached as well then, eh?" he said jokingly, clearly expecting her to laugh alongside him.

She didn't. "Well, I don't see why not."

"Is that so?" he asked slowly with a bemused smile. "Has he changed that much since we last saw him? I'd rather like to meet this new Malfoy that you've become so suddenly fond of."

"Oh, no," she said, halting his assumptions. "He hasn't changed at all. I just know him a little more now."

"Do you? Pray tell, how did this come about?"

"Oh, I happened to meet him while I was on holiday visiting an old friend. We spent some time together."

It had passed so fleetingly, Hermione almost missed it: shock and comprehension. He had lost her and he knew it. Theo knew from then on that she would hold no importance to him or what he said…yet, he still pressed onward—perhaps to try and bring her back…to charm her back into his good graces.

"I see. I wonder then how you managed to not scream in frustration from being forced to remain in his presence for a significant duration of time." He laughed as he signaled the bartender for a drink.

"Quite the opposite, actually. I found that the more time I spent in his presence the more I got to know him…and subsequently the more his true nature revealed itself, thus changing my opinion. The same, I find, happened with Pansy Parkinson. You remember her from school, don't you?"

Theo sputtered in his drink. "Pansy?"

"Yes, Pansy. You were in the same house, do you not remember her?"

"Oh, no. I remember her quite well. You were saying your opinion of her is favourable as well?"

"Oh, yes. Very much. She and Harry are actually quite the item, and I must confess I am so glad."

"Are you?"

"Yes. I am _very_ glad that she has finally been able to find a nice, decent man who will treat her right."

If there had ever been a moment in which she'd questioned the truth of the contents in Malfoy's letter, her doubts would have disappeared right then and there. Theo's gaze, which had previously been lazily perusing the dance floor, quickly darted towards her and Hermione gave him a sweet, innocent smile that she knew did not fool him.

"Ah. Well, it's been nice chatting with you, Hermione, but I've just seen an old friend who I absolutely must say hello to. Have a good night," he bid before downing the rest of his drink and walking away.

Hermione turned towards the bar with a wicked smile. _That_ was fun. And now, she would head home.

o-o-o

_November 3, 2003_

_Dear Harry,_

_I hope you're doing well and I really hope you've made contact with Pansy. I know that sounds pushy, but I just want to see you happy. And I know she made you happy._

_Everything's been fine here. Corin is growing at an alarmingly rapid speed. One day he's a cute little newborn, the next day he can't fit the 0-3 months golden snitch onesies that I swear I just bought him. Ron is vying on him walking within the next few weeks while Katie is just happy he's managed to hold his own head up now. They are the most doting parents I've ever seen, and I've never seen Ron smile so much. It's funny—who'd have thought that of the three of us, he would be the first to have kids? I suppose that's what happens when you've got your life together._

_Work is fine. Bletchley keeps giving me more and more responsibility, hinting at a possible promotion. I think he's testing me—seeing if I can do it. And I'll be damned if I fail._

_Sorry this letter's so short, but honestly not much has been happening lately. I am including a couple of photos of Corin though—cute as a button. _

_Hope you're safe and well._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

o-o-o

She was running late. Again.

Five minutes. She had five minutes to pop into the grocery and grab the roasted garlic hummus and organic pita bread she'd promised to bring to Ginny's for her impromptu girl's night.

Hermione sighed. She really should have grabbed it the night before after she'd gotten off work, but a full day of proofing Bletchley's memos and running them back and forth from the printer had left her exhausted—she was just glad the memos were finally being approved and printed. Her fight to obtain a humane way of harvesting dragon's blood without slaughtering the beasts was finally in the works. She'd owled Charlie back and forth all day to make sure the notices were being placed accordingly and would be enforce—oh, shoot. She'd forgotten to owl Hagrid with the update on Norberta… oh, well. She'd just have to do it first thing tomorrow morning.

Running through the aisles in the grocer's towards the deli at the opposite end, she whipped around a corner and ran smack dab into something soft and sturdy.

"For the love of…" she admonished loudly to herself as she regained her bearings. "I'm so sorry, sir. You wouldn't believe how many—_Fitz_?"

"Hermione!"

"Oh, my goodness!" she stated excitedly with a smile as she threw her arms around him. A strange thing to do to a man you'd only met once, but she didn't give it another thought.

He hadn't either as he chuckled and hugged her in return.

"How are you? What are you doing here?"

"I've been very well, thank you. I'm here to grab supplies for dinner tonight. Jane—wherever she is—has promised to cook up a storm. I believe she's poking somewhere around fruits and vegetables with…actually, would you like to meet her?"

"Absolutely," Hermione said as she reached around Fitz and grabbed a package of the roasted garlic hummus from a cool shelf beside him and the organic pita bread above his head, tossing both in her basket. "But I'm afraid it can't be a long visit. I'm running dreadfully behind schedule for a girls night."

"Ahh, well I promise to not keep the women waiting for long."

She followed him through the store to the other side where the fruits and vegetables were and, with a quick scan of her surroundings, saw three people. The first was an elderly woman in a pink sweater and a stern face glaring at a bushel of green apples, poking each one experimentally, and Hermione made a wild guess that that was not Fitz's wife. The second was a tall, broad-shouldered man with jet-black hair in a very fitted bright purple shirt closely inspecting some asparagus. Definitely not Fitz's type, Hermione thought with a giggle. And the third was a beautiful and graceful woman with long, auburn hair and intense green eyes that warmed considerably when she looked up and spotted Fitz and herself.

"Hi, honey. I'm just grabbing a couple of artichokes for the appetizer—I know how much you love them."

"Bless you," Fitz replied as he snaked a hand around his wife and kissed her on the forehead, to which she grinned. "Love, I want you to meet Hermione Granger, the woman I met while having breakfast with Draco and the McLaggens in Seattle. Hermione, this gorgeous woman is my wife, Jane Fitzhugh."

Jane playfully slapped her husband on the stomach with a smile before turning her attention towards Hermione. "I'm so glad to have met you," she said in a voice so kind that Hermione knew the woman could give Mrs. Weasley a run for her money. "William's told me all about you—and Draco, of course."

Hermione forced a smile on her face, suddenly thrown aback by the heavy weight she suddenly felt in the center of her chest at the mention of Malfoy. Since the morning in her park when she'd stood by the stream and promised herself to think of him no longer, she'd actually been doing fairly well—only thinking of him in great detail when it was thrust upon her, like meeting Theo at the costume party. Other than that, however, she'd managed to push aside thoughts of him before they overwhelmed her and the feelings of panic and sadness engulfed her insides.

Right now, though, those feelings were bubbling under the surface and she tried to push them away once more.

"Well, I hope they were all good things. I'm so happy to have finally met you as well. Fitz has told me some wonderful things about you."

"Good to know he's been bragging about me," Jane said playfully with an easy grin.

Already, Hermione wanted this couple more in her life. "Absolutely. I know only the most amazing of women could have snapped this one up," she said with a tilt of her head towards Fitz.

Jane grinned as she turned towards her husband. "You're right, honey. I do like her."

Hermione laughed. "I wish I could stay longer," she said with an apologetic smile, "but I'm afraid I'm terribly late and my friend Ginny will roast me alive if I don't arrive with this hummus soon."

"Of course," Fitz said with a nod of his head before his eyes scanned the area—in an odd, eager way, Hermione thought.

But then, Jane grabbed her hand in her cool, soft ones and shook them as smiled warmly. "I'd love it if we could keep in contact."

"Of course," Hermione said as she tried to grab her hand back but found Jane's grip stronger than she'd thought. A sudden feeling of paranoia rushed over her and her senses awakened—something she'd rarely felt since battle.

She looked up in alarm at Jane before Fitz's enthusiastic, "Ah!" startled her and she looked up at him, seeing that his gaze was focused past her shoulder. "Draco! Over here!"

Hermione's eyes widened suddenly and her breathing quickened as she felt the blood rush into her ears. _What? _She whipped around, pulling her hand out of Jane's, and saw, thirty paces away, a very surprised looking Draco Malfoy holding a package of chicken breast in one hand and a block of parmesan cheese in the other.

They stared at each other for seven beats of her rioting heart and Hermione had to fight the urge to just Disapparate on the spot, leaving the store behind and find safety in the quiet haven of her flat. She remembered the basket of roasted garlic hummus and organic pita bread hanging on her arm, however, and—being one very against the nature of shoplifting—stood rooted to the spot as she watched him take a deep breath and slowly start walking towards her.

"Malfoy," she breathed softly when he'd stopped five paces away from her. The intensity in his gaze was setting her on edge and she became very aware of her surroundings. The old woman in the pink sweater was shuffling past, harrumphing loudly when Malfoy took a second too long to stand aside and out of the way, his gaze still fixed on her.

"Granger," he said in a low voice, passing off the items in his hand to Jane who tossed them in the shopping basket, grabbed Fitz's arm, and walked away quickly.

_Smooth_, Hermione thought, a bit impressed. _Very smooth._

She took a deep breath, mentally trying to shake the tenseness out of her system, but failing horrendously. She felt horribly awkward—and judging by Malfoy's rigid posture, he was as well. Details of his letter, and of the look in his eyes during his confession before that, kept running through her mind and she once again had to remind herself just how much she was against shoplifting. She took another deep breath and reminded herself that she was sorted into Gryffindor for a reason.

She felt only marginally better at the nervous way he was rubbing his thumbs against his fingers—he was nervous too.

"I… What are you doing here?" she asked, unable to think of something wittier to say.

_Smooth_, she thought sarcastically, thoroughly unimpressed. _Very smooth_.

"I'm helping William and Jane shop for groceries. I'm joining them and their daughter for dinner tonight."

"Ah," she said, her breathing unsteady.

They spoke at the same time. Her, "Where is she?" mingling with his, "What are you doing here?"

"She's with Jane's sister at the moment. We'll be picking her up after we leave here."

She hummed. "I…umm…I'm about to go meet some friends," she said awkwardly before lifting her basket. "Supplies."

He looked down at her basket and an eyebrow rose. "That's actually quite good."

"It's my favourite."

He nodded before swallowing thickly. "It goes well with crackers, too."

She averted her eyes, unable to take the intensity anymore and stared hardly at the romaine lettuce to her right. "I'll be sure and try that sometime."

"Do."

Something in his tone had her looking up at him and she was unable to tear her eyes away. She saw…longing. And that scared her more than anything in the world…because it mirrored her own confused feelings. "I have to go," she blurted. "Ginny's going to have my head for how late I am." She pulled out her wand and with a quick swish, _7:23 pm_ flashed in the air before disappearing in light green wisps of smoke. "Oh, god. She's actually going to slaughter me."

"I…yes. I'm sorry for keeping you so long."

"Oh, no. Don't apologise. How could you know?" she said with a small, embarrassed laugh before swallowing thickly.

For the rest of the night, she would go over and over in her head her next move, trying to figure out _what_ possessed her to do it, and with no luck.

She stepped towards him. "I…umm…well, good night, Malfoy. Have a good dinner," she said as she leaned up on her toes, braced her hands against his arms, and kissed him lightly on the cheek before shuffling away quickly.

_Run. Run quickly. Go. Go. Go._

Before she turned the corner, she submitted to her basest urge and glanced behind her quickly, finding Malfoy standing in the same spot she'd left him in—his posture rigid as ever—but with his right hand resting against his cheek.

o-o-o

_In. Out. In. Out._

Hermione stood in the bathroom of Ginny's flat, her hands braced on the counter in front of her over the sink. She was forcing herself to take deep, calming breath as her mind went nuts over what happened in the fruits and vegetables section of the grocer's. She could hear the telly blaring and the occasional laughter of the girls from the living room and tears suddenly clouded her vision.

Why couldn't she be that happy and carefree? What had she done to deserve this?

Oh, right. Just pushed away and insulted a man who had professed his love for her—only to find later that she'd judged him very harshly far too soon. He was actually a decent guy. She wasn't sure of how it happened, but he was.

Hermione, since reading the letter, had tried to decipher how she'd known he was telling the truth—having just believed him from the second she'd finished it—and found no sturdier answer than the feeling at the bottom of her gut. She just knew.

The look of realization in Theo's eyes at the party had been assurance, sure, but not really needed. She'd already known.

Another fit of giggles was heard from the living room and Hermione clutched the counter harder. It wasn't supposed to end up like this. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. She was supposed to meet a man and know from the second their eyes met that he was the one for her. They were supposed to have a beautiful, whirlwind courtship as he swept her off her feet before kneeling down on one knee and asking her to be his for the rest of their lives.

This weight in the center of her chest, the dull pain in her heart, wasn't supposed to be there. She wasn't supposed to feel this sorrow lurking in the shadows all the time—present but not heartbreaking. How can your heart break over something you'd never had? Because that was the truth of it. She'd never had him. She'd never allowed herself the chance to have him. He had skated by under her nose and she'd been too caught up in her own stupidity to take a closer look. And now he was gone. He'd never want her again.

Hell, he'd probably already met a gorgeous, intelligent, wonderful woman with no faults who had seen him immediately for what he was and had snatched her up quickly—not letting another get away so easily.

She'd missed her chance.

It wasn't supposed to happen this way. She wasn't supposed to have fallen for him.

She could still feel the softness of his cheek against her lips and hear his small intake of breath—his warm, woodsy scent surrounding her…

Hermione sighed, wiped the last of her tears away and stepped back out of the bathroom and towards the laughter.

o-o-o

_November 12, 2003_

_Dear Hermione,_

_Thanks for your letter. I'm doing okay—keeping busy. No contact as of yet, but keep hope, right?_

_I can't believe how big Corin has gotten. I swear, it seems like just days ago that I was holding his tiny, squirmy body—the bald, wrinkly little thing—and now he looks like a proper Weasley with a full head of red hair. Looks just like Ron._

_A promotion sounds just about right. Bletchley's decent—he won't let you wait around too long._

_I'm sure you've already eaten half the box so I don't need to tell you, but I'm including a box of truffles from this little shop I found wandering around. I've sent a box to Ron and Ginny as well, so there's no need to share. _

_Hope you're doing well, Hermione. Keep your chin up, yeah?_

_Love,_

_Harry_

o-o-o

"Hello, dear!" Mrs. Weasley said as she wiped her hands on her apron and engulfed Hermione in a warm, motherly hug.

Hermione wrapped her arms around the woman in turn, appreciating the comfort she bestowed and already feeling better than she had ten seconds ago. "Hello, Molly."

"Get here okay?" Mrs. Weasley asked upon releasing her.

Hermione nodded.

"Good week?"

Another nod.

"Hungry?"

Hermione grinned, nodding emphatically.

"Good. It'll be ready soon, dear. Go wait in the living room with everyone else; I'll call everybody soon."

"Button's here?"

Mrs. Weasley smiled. "Yes, probably still being held hostage by Arthur. He'd been gnawing on his finger earlier and Arthur took it as a sign of affection and wouldn't let him go."

Hermione laughed as she walked through the house towards the living room where she found everyone. Ron and Katie were sitting on the couch, his arm wrapped around her and her head resting on his shoulder, at one side of the room looking appropriately exhausted and deliriously happy as new parents. Ginny was leaning towards Corin, making silly faces at him to get him to laugh, who, as promised, was currently bouncing up and down on Arthur's leg. Angelina was sitting on the other side of Arthur, playing with Corin's hair, and George next to her, holding her hand and tickling Corin from behind.

Hermione grinned. Corin was going to be the most spoiled baby known to mankind. She went to kiss him on the cheek before sitting down beside Ginny. "Hi, button!" she said to his smiling face.

Corin, or button, as she, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley had started calling him, smiled wider and held out his hands towards her. She leaned over Ginny and attacked him with kisses as he giggled. "My god, Ron. It's only been a week since I saw him last, but he's gotten so big!" she said, addressing the baby's father behind her.

She heard his chuckles. "That's what mum said too, and she just saw him yesterday."

"All right, you lot. Food's up!" the woman in question said as she popped her head in the living room for a quick second before disappearing again.

"How's work been?" Hermione asked George after they'd all been seated.

Mr. Weasley had reluctantly let Corin go and the happy baby was now sitting with his grandma, accepting her kisses while tugging on her hair.

"It's been great. Thanks for asking."

"'Cept for yesterday."

George rolled his eyes. "When are you going to let that go? It's a good thing he's there."

"I just don't see why we have to have meetings with the git!"

"Ron!" yelled Mrs. Weasley, Katie, and Hermione all at once.

"Sorry," he muttered sheepishly with a quick glance towards his son. "I'm just saying I think it's unnecessary."

"He's not going to just give us the money and let us run wild. It isn't out of the ordinary that he would want to know our progress. Any other company head would do the same."

"Who are we talking about?" Ginny asked.

"Malfoy," George replied.

Hermione paused with her juice halfway to her mouth and her eyes widened in surprise. With a quick glance around she relaxed and took a sip—nobody had noticed.

"We've been doing great on our own, but since we wanted to branch out and open a couple of shops in other locations, we needed investors. But with him on board, turns out we only needed one."

"We could have kept looking you know. We didn't have to take money from the slimy...guy."

George groaned. "And I keep saying you need to let that go."

"Yeah, he isn't the same person he once was," Ginny added in.

Hermione, not trusting herself to speak a word, looked over at Ginny. Since when did she approve of the blond Slytherin? Hermione racked her mind for all the knowledge concerning Malfoy she'd come by in the last few years, thinking for the first time that maybe the things she'd learned in the letter were less private than she'd assumed. Maybe she'd been the only person unaware of his nature. Then she remembered that Ginny had had no prior knowledge about Theo or Pansy, or else she would have brought it up when Hermione had started dating him, or Harry started dating Pansy. If not that, then what could it be?

"Considering his past and his family, I was very pleasantly surprised to find him a decent young man," Mr. Weasley chimed in as he took a sip of his coffee.

"Oh, so now everyone is suddenly his biggest fan?" Ron asked, looking at everyone in exasperation.

Hermione quirked an eyebrow, having thought the same thing. Apparently she and Ron were the only ones out of the loop when it came to Draco Malfoy. Then she paused, a memory forcing itself to the front of her brain.

_Honestly, the only person from my childhood that I'd kept in touch with was Pansy—I guess I was taking her word for it. She always spoke so highly of him. But then again, she always did. I just—with what he's done, this doesn't make sense._

After letting Millie in on what Fitz had told her at breakfast that day in Seattle, she hadn't just been shocked, but incredibly confused.

…_what he's done…_

She also recalled Millie mentioning something else about him. Something positive. Hermione scanned her brain...efforts. Efforts that he'd made after the war—the reason why he was even at the Ministry Ball all those months ago in the first place. She'd never really thought about it, but the sudden conversation had her curiosity reeling. What? What had he done?

"Well, it's just hard to hate him after everything he's done."

"Done what?" Hermione asked, no longer able to keep silent.

Ginny looked at her with raised eyebrows. "It was his money that rebuilt the entire east wing of Hogwarts, plus he was the one that instated that new department at St. Mungo's—you know, the sixth floor dedicated to those injured by war and dark magic?"

"Not to mention Ollivander's," George added. At the confused looks being thrown his way by Hermione, Ron, and Katie, he took on an exasperated tone. "Well surely you've noticed the update on Ollivander's shop. It's almost twice as big and he's got workers helping him out now."

"What's that got to do with the ferret?" Ron asked, still confused.

"Malfoy funded it," he said, looking at Ron as if the answer should have been obvious.

"How did I not know about this?" Hermione asked quietly, almost to herself than anyone at the table.

"It's been mentioned briefly in the Prophet," Ginny started before pausing, as if trying to figure out how to word her sentence, before she said carefully, "but not as it should be."

"Why not?" Hermione asked.

Mr. Weasley piped in. "Because his family's allegiance was towards Voldemort and therefore they don't feel he deserves a chance to be redeemed," he said morosely.

"That's awful," Hermione said, remembering Millie's plight.

Mr. Weasley shrugged. "There are still a lot of closed minds out there that hold too much power. Which is why," he said before turning to address Ron, "I urge you to reconsider your attitude towards him. I've encountered him quite a bit over the years and, believe me, after years of dealing with his father, I can safely say he is nothing like Lucius."

Hermione thought she was going to be sick.

o-o-o

"Hey, you okay?" Ginny asked with concern as she went to go sit by Hermione.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. I'm fine."

"You sure? You looked a little green before."

Hermione smiled. "I'm okay. I guess that Malfoy stuff just threw me for a loop," she said, turning away before Ginny could see anything else in her gaze: guilt, wounded pride, sadness. She'd really mucked it up, hadn't she?

"I'm actually surprised you hadn't known."

"Yeah. Me too," Hermione replied in a soft voice. She took a deep, quiet, calming breath and turned back to Ginny. "You ever think we'll all get our happy endings?"

Ginny smiled at her in question. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know…I guess I mean everything that we'd always wanted. When you're a kid you have this idea of what happiness is, right?"

Ginny nodded.

"And life might throw you a few curve balls that you would never have seen coming, but even then you figure that everything will eventually just work itself out. I…do you think it will?"

Ginny took a deep breath. "I don't know. I hope it will."

"I do too."

"I guess you just have to keep fighting, you know? Even when everything seems like it's out of your favour and all hope is lost…if you want it, keep fighting for it."

"Is that what happened with you and Harry? You stopped fighting?"

"No," Ginny replied in an easy manner, "the problem with me and Harry was that we stopped wanting it. If I was still in love with him or he still in love with me, I'm sure we would have kept fighting."

"Like he's doing now with Pansy."

"Exactly."

Hermione looked down at her hands. "What happens when you want it but don't fight for it?"

"That's when fear wins."

* * *

**Author's Note: **As I mentioned at the beginning of the chapter, there are only two more after this. I'm definitely going to miss this story; I had so much fun writing it.

And I'm also a little blue because my beloved web-series, _The Lizzie Bennet Diaries_, aired its finale episode (number 100!) yesterday. Such a wonderful show, and if you are at all a fan of Pride & Prejudice-take a gander because it's so worth it.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: **I'm not entirely sure _how_ I forgot to post on time for Friday (it's 1am Saturday my time) but I'm truly sorry I did. All I can say is I was busy all day with my dad running errands and stuff.

Anyways, just one more chapter after this. In this chapter, I fall a little in love with Katie. She's a wonderful human being in my book.

* * *

_November 18, 2003_

_Katie,_

_I remember you mentioning you wanted to start exercising again now that Corin's born. I certainly won't be any help with your Quidditch training, but I was wondering if you'd like some company._

_I've been a bit stressed lately and am in need of finding a new way to alleviate it._

_Give button a kiss for me._

_Hermione_

o-o-o

_November 18, 2003_

_Hermione,_

_What a wonderful idea! I'd be delighted to have you as company as I whip my body back in shape…who knew a little baby could set you back so far? I'm hopeful we can be each other's inspiration as well._

_Owl me a time and date and I will be there waiting._

_Corin giggled especially joyfully when I gave him your kiss. Oh, how I love my son so._

_Katie_

o-o-o

"How about this?"

"Ron! I told you. He's doesn't even have teeth yet and you're already trying to get him hooked on sugar. What's going to happen when he _does_ start teething? Hmm?"

"I'll send him on over to your parents?"

"Very funny. Now will you please grab your chocolate frogs? I don't want to miss Scrivenshaft's before it closes."

"Fine. Fine." Ron started towards the aisle at the far left, Hermione trailing after him, and grabbed a handful of chocolate frogs before they both headed towards the register.

She'd had an early dinner with Ron and since they rarely got to hang out with each other as often as they used to—just the two of them—they decided to run their errands together. Apparently Ronald's candy stock was running low and he'd dragged her into the leader of all shops that gave you cavities.

Stalled relationship with her parents or not, she was still raised by dentists.

"So, you're really going to start working out with Katie?"

"Yeah. I thought it might be nice—something for us to do together that will be beneficial at the same time."

"And when she'll want to start Quidditch training again?" Ron asked with an amused smile.

"That's what she has you for, doesn't she? Until then, it'll be good to alleviate this stress in a healthy manner."

"Yeah, she mentioned something about that."

Hermione hummed as they made their way out of Honeydukes. She linked her arm through his and smiled at the snow slowly drifting down. She'd always loved Hogsmeade at this time of the year.

"You're doing okay, right? Nothing to worry about?"

Hermione smiled at one of her oldest friends. "Yes, Ronald. I'm doing okay. Nothing for you to worry about. Just work and other things have left me a little tense lately."

"You're sure? No guy trouble? 'Cause you know, with me being a father now and all, I've been feeling very protective lately and could practice for when I need to beat up some rowdy kids later on," Ron said with a mischievous gleam.

Hermione laughed. "You're hopeless! And to answer your question, no, there is no guy that I need you to beat up."

She wouldn't let him beat Malfoy up, that was for sure. Maybe if he started being a prat again, but until then, not a chance.

o-o-o

"Come on, Hermione!"

"Oh, my god." Hermione groaned as she bent over, her breath coming out in huffs as she tried to rub the stitch out of her side. "Did I mention that I'm not particularly athletic? As in unlike the rest of you, I didn't spend my entire life training for the Olympics?"

"The what?"

"Ugh, never mind. Just give me a second, all right?"

Katie shrugged happily as she started jogging in place, waiting for Hermione.

This wasn't exactly what she'd had in mind. She'd hoped—stupidly, she now realised—that Katie's pregnancy might have slowed her down a bit, but Hermione had come to understand that she'd been very, very wrong. The woman was like a titan.

"Okay, let's go."

They kept up a steady pace down the road through winds and turns, each content with their own thoughts and musings of the gorgeous landscaping and appreciative of the company at their side. Sometimes there didn't need to be words, just the comfort of knowing someone was by your side through your trials and tribulations—even something so simple as a jog through the countryside.

They continued on in silence until Katie spoke with, what Hermione thought ruefully, a steady breath that gave no inclination that she'd been jogging for the past thirty minutes.

"I'm so glad you suggested this! We haven't had a chance to catch up since Corin was born."

Hermione gave a tired smile.

"So, how have you been?"

Hermione huffed an exasperated laugh. "I've been okay. Just busy with work and everything."

"So, we won't mention how down and out you've seemed lately?"

"What?" Hermione asked suddenly as she glanced quickly at Katie's unassuming face. "I don't...I don't—what?"

Katie held out a hand and stopped the both of them before turning towards her, jogging in place. "I know we haven't known each other as long as you've known Ron, Ginny, or Harry, but I just want you to know that I'm here if you ever want to talk about anything. I'm very good at giving an unbiased and objective point of view on whatever is discussed and promise to not spread around whatever it is—if you even want to tell me. But I have noticed a change in you. I didn't want to bring it up. You know, give you your privacy. And I don't know if you even need someone to talk to, but I…I don't know. I guess I'm just putting it out there."

Hermione smiled gratefully. If there was ever a woman that Ron could have fallen in love with that could be more wonderful that the one in front of her, Hermione didn't know who she was. "Thank you," she said softly.

She, honestly, would have loved to just spill everything there and now—knowing that Katie would keep quiet about anything spoken between them. And she did have a point. An outsider's objective view would be nice…it would let her run through everything that happened without so many emotions in the way. But…Hermione was still very hesitant. This was her heart that she'd be discussing after all. It would be the inner workings of all that she'd thought and confronted and obsessed over for the past few months. To put it out there was nothing short of daunting.

Plus, everything still felt very personal between her and Draco—as she'd started calling him in her head. To add another person into the mix, to let someone else in on everything that had happened between them—the fear, the trepidation, the anxiety, the sadness…the heartache and love—was a big step that she wasn't quite sure she was ready to take…if she would ever be ready, that is.

Besides, Hermione had always thought that if and when she chose to tell everything to someone, that it would always be Millie. Telling everything to Katie seemed, strangely, like a betrayal. Millie had been there for the past five years through thick and thin. They'd created a bond that nobody else could recreate. Harry, Ron, and Ginny were her blood, but Millie had become her source of wisdom and strength—in some bizarre way.

There was just one problem with that. Millie was married now and living all the way at the far end of America. She had her own life to live and to care for—a husband to share all of that with. Millie's marriage to Cormac hadn't changed the importance of their friendship, but it had changed the dynamics of it.

Hermione hadn't been lying to everyone before—she was feeling sad at the sudden change that seemed to encapsulate everyone's life. Millie married and living her own life in America. Harry living and working all the way in Italy. Ron having a wonderful and perfect life with his son and the woman standing in front of her. Ginny living an extraordinary life and changing the face of women in sports…and Hermione, still in the same spot at the Ministry, no husband, no fabulous career, no baby…nobody. But confiding in Katie because Millie wasn't here? What would that say about her own inner strength and will?

From the second she'd stepped off that train during her first year of Hogwarts, not knowing a single soul and embarking on a new life at the tender age of eleven, she'd made a promise to herself that she'd never allow herself to be so weak to the point where she couldn't take care of herself, physically, emotionally, or mentally. For the past twelve years she had kept to that promise—and thus for the past few months had kept her struggles largely to herself.

But that other side of her spoke up and told her that talking about her problems didn't make her weak, rather just gave her the ability to let good and trustworthy people in. And Katie meant no harm, she knew that. And though it was something she'd struggled with her entire life, perhaps it was time to learn that vulnerability never meant weakness. Right?

So, Hermione took a deep breath and began to tell her tale.

o-o-o

"My goodness, you poor soul," Katie said with a sympathetic tilt to her head.

Hermione gave a wry smile through her tears. It felt unbelievably good to give a voice to everything she'd been feeling and thinking and struggling over.

They were sitting off to the side of the road on top of a blanket, a warming bubble around them to keep out the freezing November temperatures.

Katie sighed. "Honestly, even with what was discussed Sunday at the Burrow and all the new information you've just told me, I still have trouble thinking of him as a good guy."

Hermione laughed and reached up to wipe a few straggling tears away. "I know what you mean. Imagine dealing with it for months and not having the ability to learn everything in one fail swoop."

"On just that note, I honestly think that you shouldn't be _so _hard on yourself about what you said in Seattle. As he explained in the letter—which I must say is probably one of the most romantic things I've ever heard, by the way—he'd never truly apologised to you. And since you two certainly do not run in the same circles, there really was never an occasion for you to learn of his character. For all you know, he could have stayed the same throughout these years." She shrugged. "He's a Malfoy. Throwing money without any care or real good intention wouldn't have been unheard of. Though we have realised now that they were just assumptions, your original feelings of the man were based on years of knowledge about him, his family, and their whole philosophy about life.

"I mean, up until last week at the Burrow, Ron and I had never known of everything he'd done either. George knew because he's worked with him more closely than Ron had. Arthur for that same reason—having run into him and met with him at the Ministry and such. And Ginny, as you know, is very up to date on the latest gossip and news of everything happening, so it's really no surprise that she knew."

"You're right. I know you're right. I just…I still feel bad, you know?"

Katie smiled. "I know, but that's because feelings have gotten involved now. If you didn't care for him as strongly as you do now, you wouldn't think twice about it."

Hermione groaned. "I know. Help me."

Katie grinned. "Well, my dear. It seems we have a few problems to work through. An incredibly kind, well-mannered, and gorgeous man—what? Don't look at me like that. You know as well as I do that Draco Malfoy is not that bad to look at. Now, where was I? Right, a kind, well-mannered, and _gorgeous_ man is desperately in love with you, as proven with the intense and longing-filled gazes he handed you in the fruits and vegetables aisle at the grocery. It appears his attentions have not wandered and you are still firmly in his mind as the woman he is pining for."

Hermione blew a curl out of her eyes. "All right."

"Okay. Secondly, from what you've told me thus far, you are equally as crazy about him, yes?"

A sigh. "Yes."

"And here's where the real trouble enters. The reason you two haven't fallen into each other's arms yet is because of your hesitancy and fear. Correct?"

Hermione nodded reluctantly. "And the fact that I'm not Malfoy-wife material and don't belong in his world, as he stated clearly in Seattle."

Katie nodded her head in agreement. "Yes, that is true. However, I believe that, unbeknownst to you, of course, he'd already decided that all that didn't matter by coming to you and telling you how he'd felt. This isn't to say I don't understand the severity of this reason, because it is a valid fear. You were not bred in the pureblood life and therefore wouldn't immediately feel comfortable in that setting and with those people. And he was not raised in a relaxed and loving home as you and the Weasleys were on the side of the Light, and therefore he wouldn't immediately feel comfortable at the Burrow, for instance. Essentially, your two worlds do not mix."

Hermione looked up at Katie sadly.

"However," Katie said with a pointed finger, "when it comes to love, all of that is shit and doesn't ultimately matter. The point is that _you_ _two_ fit together, in each other's lives. If and when you do choose to pursue this, which I do hope you do, all of that other stuff will come together in its own time."

"You think so?"

"I think," Katie said as she pulled Hermione's hand into her own and stared into her eyes, "that it may take some hard work and effort, but you have the possibility of being very, _very_ happy."

o-o-o

"Granger."

Hermione paused in flipping through the book at the sound of the voice behind her. Her eyes widened in surprise—the only part of her body able to move—as she stood still in absolute shock.

"Granger?"

Hermione closed her eyes as one thought flew into her mind…she did not like the sound of her last name from his lips anymore. Taking a deep, slow breath, she turned around. "Malfoy. Hi."

And she didn't like the sound of his last name from her lips, either.

Malfoy dipped his head in greeting and that's when she noticed he was holding onto someone's hand…a little girl. She was looking at Hermione in innocent wonder before turning up to look at Malfoy with a brow furrowed in question. Hermione smiled softly. The girl had beautiful auburn curls and kind brown eyes and Hermione knew this could only be the child of Fitz and Jane.

"This is William's daughter, Lucy. Lucy, this is Miss Hermione Granger, an old schoolmate of mine. Can you say hi to her?"

"Hi," the little girl said shyly.

Hermione tilted her head and smiled warmly. She walked towards her and kneeled to get down to Lucy's eye-level. She caught Malfoy's gaze briefly before holding out her hand towards Lucy. "Hi, Lucy. It's so good to meet you."

Lucy looked up towards Malfoy for a second and at his nod let go of his hand to grab Hermione's.

"You know, Lucy has always been one of my favorite names in the whole wide world."

"Really?" Lucy asked, her eyes bright with excitement.

Hermione nodded. "Yeah. In fact, I'd always wanted to name my daughter that."

"How come you don't?"

Hermione grinned. "I don't have a daughter yet."

"Oh. Well, will you when you do have her?"

"You won't mind? What if you become friends with her? Won't it be confusing when both of your names will be Lucy?"

Lucy looked torn for a moment before she looked up at Hermione excitedly. "Well, my real name's actually Lucille. I guess I could go by that whenever we're together."

"Really?" Hermione asked, her head cocked to the side. "You wouldn't mind?"

Lucy shook her head.

"Well, thank you. I hope you get to meet her someday then. It was nice to meet you, Lucy."

Lucy smiled. "You too, Hermo-ninny."

Hermione heard Malfoy chuckle and looked up with a grin of her own, catching his eye. The effect was dazzling, to say the least. She couldn't remember ever having seen him smile so openly before. She stood up to stand before him, suddenly feeling very awkward and unsure of what to say. He hadn't seemed to mind, seemingly content with just staring at her, but Hermione had to do something to break the tension.

"Where's Fitz?"

"Who…William?"

She nodded.

"Oh, he and Jane are having dinner so I volunteered to watch Lucy. We were just walking around. And then after I'm going to get you some ice cream, right?" he said, looking down at Lucy.

"Yeah," Lucy said with a definitive nod.

Malfoy grinned as he looked back towards Hermione. "How've you been, Granger?" he asked softly.

"I—fine," she said, stuttering over her words from the way his intense gaze was making her heart pound. "I've been fine."

Malfoy quirked an eyebrow at her in amusement. "That sounded convincing."

Hermione huffed a laugh. "No, really, I've been fine." She chose not to tell him how confused she's been, how horrible she feels for how she treated him, and especially not how seeing him with this beautiful child and how he acts towards her made Hermione's heart clench in ways that she was scared to understand. "How have you been?"

"I have been well, thank you. I hope all of your friends are okay? And family?"

He sounded so unsure, and for one horrid second as she looked into his tantalizing grey eyes, she realised it was from a mixture of him both fearing that she would shout at him again and say things like how could he have the gall to ask after the health of those whom he'd once despised, and how much he wanted to be in her life. She wanted to cry. How could she let this enigma of a man know that she could never again think to do such a thing to him, that she had been wrong about everything, and also make him understand that maybe she wanted to be in his life too—all in a few words during an accidental greeting in a bookstore?

She couldn't.

"They're doing great. Thank you for asking. Ron's actually just had a baby boy."

"With…" He gulped. "…Bell, right?"

She saw guilt in his eyes and felt for him. It was strange to think that only a few months ago she had pushed for that guilt in his eyes, deriving some sort of satisfaction from it, when now the only thing she wanted to do was kiss it away. She nodded softly. "Yes, his name is Corin and he's healthy, happy, absolutely beautiful, and giggles a lot."

"I'm…" He took a deep breath and shut his eyes. "I'm glad that my mistakes didn't affect her…"

She finished his sentence in her head for him. _…her ability to conceive._ "We all have a past, Draco."

His gaze darted towards hers at her use of his given name.

"And I don't think you should be ashamed of yours. It led you to here, who you are now…right?"

"I…yes," he said softly. "Would you…would you like to join us? For ice cream?"

She had wanted to say yes. She had wanted to say yes and walk out there with him and not turn back… hell, she wanted to attack him in the middle of the aisle and finally discover what it felt like to have his lips against hers, but she didn't. "Oh, no. Thank you. I've got to be getting home anyway."

Disappointment. She saw it. For just a brief second it had entered his eyes before he covered it with a polite smile.

"Well, you shall be missed. Isn't that right, Lucy?"

Hermione looked down at Lucy and smiled at her little ringlets bobbing up and down with the force of her nod. "Goodnight, Lucy. I hope to see you again soon."

"'Night, Hermo-ninny."

Hermione grinned. "Goodnight, Malfoy. It was good to see you."

He bowed his head. "Goodnight, Granger."

She stepped around them and walked out, hearing Lucy's soft voice ask, "Why do you guys call each other by your last names? What's wrong with your first ones?" and Malfoy's deep chuckles before she exited the shop and Apparated away, her heart pounding and her eyes wet.

o-o-o

_November 20, 2003_

_Hermione,_

_Just received your letter and figured I should pen a quick reply. Before I forget, however, I wanted to tell you that Cormac and I are planning on returning for a week during Christmas. I was hoping we could round everyone at the Burrow on some night so that I could say hello to them all at once. And I'm eager to meet "button" as I hear everyone's started calling him…which I must say will make for an interesting nickname in his future._

_Onto the other matter, I'm actually a little surprised you hadn't known. Though I must say your once-supreme dislike of him makes a little more sense now. He not only did everything you mentioned in the letter—east wing at Hogwarts, new sixth floor at St. Mungo's, Ollivander's expansion—but he's also done a few things for me that I just learned of and am incredibly grateful for. _

_You remember on your visit when we discussed Cormac's boss looking at my samples? All that's true. Cormac's boss had agreed to look at my samples, but he was less reluctant to do anything about them. Nothing to do with my family's history or reputation, though I know that'd be deliciously scandalous, but more to do with lack of funding. And laziness, the prat._

_I haven't been properly trained, as you know, but instead learned everything on my own. Because of my lack of license, it would have taken a lot more effort to convince the research lab to take the potions I'd created seriously __**and**__to let me use the lab at free rein to research and work. Draco not only expedited that process, but decided to fund my projects directly so that it doesn't come out of company expenses. _

_Hermione, I was as surprised as I'm sure you are now. It's because of him that I'm not only able to do what I love, but do it in a relaxed environment with every tool at my disposal…all without having to worry about accounting breathing down my neck. _

_I've already thanked him, but if you see him, please thank him again for me._

_I have to go. Dinner party tonight that I have to get ready for._

_Much love,_

_Millie_

o-o-o

Hermione stared at the letter from Millie before reading it again, and again, and again, before dropping her head on the desk and letting out a groan.

"Stupid…stupid…stupid…stupid…stupid..."

o-o-o

"Wow. Have you seen this?" Ginny asked as she buttered her toast before dipping it in her tea and taking a healthy bite.

Hermione had almost gagged the first time she'd seen her friend do that—a strange habit she'd picked up somewhere along her travels—but after being forced to try it, had to admit that it wasn't half bad. She didn't like it enough to do it herself, of course, but she no longer grimaced whenever she saw Ginny do it.

Since both had had an off day with nothing else to do, they'd decided to meet for breakfast at the Rose & Crown—their current location—before catching a Muggle film at the cinema a few streets down from the Leaky Cauldron. _Elf_ had just released and both were itching to see it. Hermione because she needed something fun and light to take her mind off of everything and her aching heart and Ginny because she'd had an affliction for Will Ferrell ever since she saw him in _Superstar_—something Hermione seriously had trouble understanding.

"Seen what?"

"This," Ginny said as she flipped the paper around to show Hermione the front page.

Hermione spat out her tea as she stared bug-eyed at the photo thrust in her face. It was of Draco walking down a stone-cobbled street, his arm linked casually with Fitz's sister, Alicia. She watched as they talked and smiled before Alicia threw her head back in laughter and turned towards him, then just before it looked like they were about to kiss, the photo repeated itself again. The headline below read: _Malfoy Heir Engaged! _

* * *

**Author's Note:** Thank you for reading. I'm excited for next week...but kind of dreading it all the same since it will hedge further towards the end (last chap. next week then epilogue).

And if you can, please drop a line telling me how you like/d the story. I love feedback!


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: **Honestly, I'm gonna miss this story. I had started it back in November of 2011, worked on it sporadically since, then pushed out the last 9 chapters in December-editing and fine-tuning these past few months. I never expected to finish it, or to publish it really. It was just an idea I had and I'm glad it's out there.

Please, enjoy.

* * *

**Previously**:

She watched as they talked and smiled before she threw her head back in laughter and turn towards him, then just before it looked like they were about to kiss, the photo repeated itself again. The headline below read: _Malfoy Heir Engaged!_

* * *

Hermione ripped the paper out of Ginny's hands and frantically started reading. "_What?_" she whispered furiously in disbelief. How could…engaged…he…_What?_

"What?" Ginny asked, bewildered at her friend's powerful reaction.

_This isn't possible. No. No, this isn't possible. It can't be…_ Hermione looked up at her friend. "What?" she asked distractedly before looking back down at the article.

"Hermione, what's going on?"

_No, it can't be. I _just_ saw him. That look in his eyes… had I imagined it?_

"What? No. Nothing," Hermione said as she folded the paper haphazardly and stuffed it in her purse. Now was _not_ the time to freak out.

"What's the big deal? So the git's getting married."

"It's not. It's not a big deal. I was just surprised is all."

Ginny looked at her with obvious disbelief. "Clearly. Want to expound upon that?"

"There's nothing to say. I just didn't know they were—hang on. You were just defending him not two weeks ago!"

"So?"

"You just called him a git."

"Well, he is, isn't he? Oh, come on. He may have changed and abandoned the whole blood superiority nonsense, but he's still a snarky, pompous, prat, right? Some things you just can't outgrow."

Hermione nodded, her heart beginning to calm down and the fog of panic starting to clear, leaving sadness and quiet desperation in its wake. Was this how Draco had felt after Seattle? And she'd caused it. "Yeah, I guess so."

"You'll always be bookish and clever, I'll always be witty and stylish, and Malfoy will always be an arrogant prat. Which apparently that girl he was walking with is into."

"I didn't even know they were together," Hermione muttered softly, staring at her cup of rapidly cooling tea—not that she noticed.

"Do you know her?"

Hermione took a deep breath. "Yeah, she's Fitz's sister."

"Ahh, the illustrious Fitz."

A corner of Hermione's quirked upwards. "Yeah. She's really nice too. Very sweet." And apparently, Hermione thought sadly, didn't yell at him or insult him cruelly when he was pouring his heart out to her.

She felt very numb all of a sudden.

Ginny hmm'd in reflection. "Interesting that she's with him then, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we all have your lifelong characteristics, right? Just seems odd that a nice, sweet girl would be with a guy like him." Ginny paused in reflection before shrugging a shoulder. "Who knows? Maybe she can be the one to change him."

"What if he doesn't need to be changed?" Hermione asked softly.

"Then it makes their pairing all the more strange. I don't know, he just seems like the kind of guy that should be with someone with more fire, you know? Someone that will challenge him…someone that he can grow with."

Someone like me, Hermione realised belatedly.

"I mean, don't get me wrong. Sweetness is great, but with a guy with such intensity, sweet seems like it would get boring after a while. But what do I know, right? Maybe they're deliriously happy together, and in the end that's all that matters."

…that's all that matters…

o-o-o

"I am going to kill that woman!"

"Draco, calm down," Pansy said in exasperation from the sofa. She sat with an eyebrow raised as she watched him walk back and forth in front of her, pacing furiously with an equally enraged expression on his face.

"No! No, she can't do this. She can't just print that shit and get away with it."

"What's the big deal? You make her print a retraction and everything's fixed."

"A retraction isn't good enough. I want to make her pay."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "A retraction _is_ good enough. Look, Rita Skeeter never prints them. Her doing so will prove how moronic her whole story was. Everyone will see that you are not engaged—that you're not even seeing her—and will move on with their lives as easily as they had before."

"No," he said, stopping near the window and clenching the frame so furiously that the tendons stood out on his arm, his voice pained, "she's going to… she'll think…no. No, this _can't_ have happened."

"Who's going to what?" Pansy asked with a confused expression on her face as she watched her best friend struggle with something before deflating completely. "There isn't any truth to this, is there, Draco?"

"Of course not," he replied tiredly, his shoulders relaxed and his head drooped.

"Because that would be okay, you know. I mean, she's a sweet girl."

He sighed. "I don't want a sweet girl."

"Who do you want? What's going on?"

"Nothing," he said softly. "A retraction will do as long as it's done quickly. I also need to speak to you about something. About Potter."

Pansy turned away quickly. "Draco, don't."

He turned around and leaned against the window frame. "I can't anymore, I'm sorry. I've kept silent about the whole situation since the summer in respect for your feelings, but I'm afraid I must tell you something."

"What's there to say, Draco? It happened, I've learned from my mistakes—completely, this time—and have since move on."

"Have you? Are you certain?"

"Yes."

"Then why can't you look at me?"

"Draco," Pansy said softly around a whimper, "I will be fine, but I can't talk about it yet."

Draco sighed. He had really mucked it up, hadn't he? For months he had watched her walk around with her head held high and a smile on her face, and had somehow convinced himself that she was okay—even after learning the truth of Potter's feelings from Hermione. He'd already made the mistake of meddling with Pansy's personal affairs once… he certainly didn't want to commit the same mistake twice that would only cause her more unnecessary pain.

"I'm sorry, love, but we need to. Because I thought I'd learned from my mistakes as well, but I was wrong. I'd realised, belatedly, that pulling you away from Potter was a mistake, and when I saw you moving on with your life, that meddling further would only cause you more pain..."

At that, she turned towards him. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I made a mistake, and I'm sorry."

o-o-o

How fair is it in life to lose something the second you realised you'd wanted it?

Hermione scowled. No. It had been longer than just that second. She'd been wanting it since Lee Jordan's damn birthday party all those months ago. She hadn't known that, of course. She also hadn't realised then how much of him she wanted, but only in hindsight could she recognise the fact that while dancing with him, she hadn't wanted to stop. Perhaps that should have been her first clue. Perhaps if she had just pulled her head out of the sand long enough to realise what a complete idiot she was being, then maybe they would have had a chance.

But that chance was lost now. Gone, and another woman had taken it up for herself. A better woman perhaps. A woman that didn't scold him and make his life difficult. A woman who, with a furious tone and eyes full of conviction, hadn't told him that he was the last man that she could ever deign to fall for. She grimaced in disgust at herself. She had been so self-righteously angry at him for listing every reason why he shouldn't want her, but hadn't she been doing the same _damn_ thing for the past few months? Hadn't she gone over and over in her head why she shouldn't want him? Why he was bad for her? Not even bothering to uncover the facts, just letting her damned pride steer the way?

Hermione groaned loudly and bent over on the bench as she forced her palms in her eyes until she saw stars. _How_ could she be so bloody stupid? How could she just let him get away for Merlin's sakes? She might have had a chance when she saw him in the bookshop. Sure he and Alicia might have been engaged by then and just not made it public, but that look in his eyes had told her a different story.

She was frustrated and at nobody other than herself. The bookshop wasn't her only opportunity. The illuminating conversation at the Burrow had only forced her to realise what she had known for a long time—that he wasn't scum. That he was worth it. But her damn stubbornness had forced her to stay in the dark where it was safe and just watch her life pass by. That was what her problem was. She was too damn stubborn for her own good.

She'd known since Seattle that he wasn't what she'd always thought. She'd known as he pulled her away from scary-looking Estrella because he'd seen she was uncomfortable that he wasn't the same jerk that he'd been during their childhood. She had known since he bought her that stupid red umbrella that there had been some good in him, and she still let him slip through her fingers like sand.

Why? Because she was an idiot. And a coward. She had let fear win. She'd had her chance…she'd had dozens of chances, and passed them all by—like the complete idiot that she was. She stood suddenly and began walking, unable to stay still any longer. The park was quiet since it was three am in December. She hadn't been able to sleep, just as every night since that bloody article came out over a week ago. She'd stay in her bed long enough to toss and turn for a few hours before she'd give up hope and take a walk out in the cold, always ending up here, at her little park.

God, that bloody article. She was a coward, she decided as she felt the cold seep into her bones. She was too scared to go after him—or even give him any inclination as to her feelings as of late—and now she was too scared to look at the papers; had been avoiding the Daily Prophet like the plague ever since. She just couldn't bear to see any more pictures of them together or read any details about the big day. It might have been childish, but she knew that those types of details would just eat her alive. She needed to get away from it all and move on with her life.

Maybe Harry had it right, dropping everything and moving to a foreign country. Millie did it too. Maybe they knew something that she didn't and could teach her a thing or two about how to move on when you're broken.

The cold finally starting to get to her, she started to head back, hoping for a couple of hours of fretful sleep before a day of nothing. It was Sunday and she should probably go to the Burrow for brunch, but she'd already owled Mrs. Weasley to tell her she couldn't make it, feigning a work emergency. Moping around the house sounded lovely—a few days of self-exile and moaning about her lousy life before she'd force it all behind her.

Hermione sighed. Hopefully.

o-o-o

Three hours later, still not fully rested but unable to sleep a second longer, she dragged her tired body out of the bed and headed for the shower.

There was something very relaxing about standing under the hot spray when your life has gone up in flames. Maybe she could just stay there forever and not come out. She could stay in there, be warm and clean and comfortable for the rest of her life—where there were no intense grey eyes that made her feel things in her stomach or oncoming weddings that made her heart ache. It would not be easy, however, as she was already beginning to prune. Hermione rolled her eyes at herself and shut off the hot spray, stepping out and wrapping herself in her fluffiest towel.

After brushing her teeth and drying her hair, she made her way over to the kitchen to put on a full pot of coffee, intending to drink every last drop. Her dreams lately had consisted of a deep voice laughing, grey eyes filled with kindness, and soft, platinum blond hair that she would run her fingers through. It was too painful to sleep, at least for the time being. Hermione fully trusted that the dreams would wane and her life would return back to normal. Until then…coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.

Pouring out herself a cup, she sipped it slowly and made her way over to the window where a tawny owl was tapping furiously. She opened the window and it flew inside, landing on the kitchen table and ruffling its feathers to get rid of the cold.

Poor thing, Hermione thought, as she grabbed the scroll from its leg and placed a few treats in front of it to munch on. All that could be heard for the next few minutes was the crunching of the treats and the rustle of paper before a cup half full of coffee hit the floor with a loud _thud_, liquid splashing everywhere, before the slam of a door quickly followed. The owl, having hardly ruffled a feather, finished his treats and took off out the open window, his task completed.

o-o-o

_December 3, 2003_

_Dear Hermione,_

_I'll be at the Burrow in a week and a half on Sunday, but I wanted to tell you and Ron directly. Pansy and I are engaged!_

_It all happened so quickly and so suddenly. She appeared at my doorstep yesterday. I didn't get the whole story since she was crying so much… something about Malfoy—would you believe what's been happening with him and the Prophet lately? First they publish a two page article about him being engaged, then three days later retract the whole thing. Crazy lot can never get their story straight, can they?—but she didn't get into it that deeply. I don't really care, either way._

_It was so out of the blue, too. For months I've had no success of contacting her, then suddenly she's there and I…I just asked her to marry me! And she said yes! Can you believe it, Hermione? I'm engaged! And I'm so happy I can hardly write._

_Anyway, I just wanted you to know. See you on the 14th!_

_Love,_

_Harry_

o-o-o

Perhaps this wasn't the best idea. Perhaps she should have thought this through a little more. Perhaps she should have cleaned the coffee off of the bottom of her pyjamas before leaving her flat.

No. Hermione took a deep breath and forced the doubt away from her thoughts. She didn't want to run the risk of wasting any more time on her own fear and stupidity. She was here, she was doing this, and she was giving it her best shot.

She just hoped that in the time between when the retraction had been printed and the arrival of Harry's letter he hadn't decided to actually propose to Alicia… or worse, met someone new who would have realised right away what an amazing man he is, thus giving Hermione another woman to compete against.

One more deep breath. Hermione reached up to knock hard on the large wooden door to the impressive Malfoy Manor, her mind completely forgoing the realization that his wards had let her in without question.

After what seemed like a lifetime of her waiting on his doorstep, she heard footsteps approach and steeled herself for whatever it was that was about to come…until he opened the door and her mind and heart turned to goo. Slowly it opened and revealed a tired looking and tousled Draco Malfoy in a thin, white tee shirt and cotton draw-string trousers, looking thoroughly rumpled and confused. Not to mention completely gorgeous and sexy.

"Hermione?"

Hermione closed her eyes as a smile escaped at the sound of her given name from his lips.

"Is everything all right?"

Hermione grinned, a laugh bubbling out of her. "Yes," she said as tears ran down her cheeks.

He suddenly appeared stricken and moved to the side, alarmed by her tears. "I…uhh…come in."

She stepped inside from the cold and upon hearing the door shut behind her, turned around to face him. He was looking at her with an expression of confusion and wariness and she sincerely hoped that he was alone, that Alicia wasn't in his bed, waiting and keeping it warm or something.

Oh, god. She really should have called first and announced her arrival.

"I'm sorry. I should have Floo-called or owled or something," she said as shame filled her.

"No, it's all right."

"And you were probably sleeping…shit. It's so early. I can leave and come back later." She went to move towards the door but he was quicker.

His hand reached out and touched her lightly on her arm to stop her movements. "You did nothing but disturb my tossing and turning, Hermione. I actually haven't been sleeping very well, so don't worry about the time."

She nodded before backing up and standing in her original spot, facing him. His intense stare was beginning to make her uneasy and she swallowed thickly. "Well," she started, "I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry."

He spoke his confusion during her moment of hesitation. "About what?"

"About everything." Tears ran down her cheeks and she closed her eyes in pain. _Please still love me…Please still love me…Please...Please still be waiting for me…_ "About Seattle and Theo and how horrible I was to you when you didn't deserve it."

"Hermione, I—"

"No, please," she said quickly, holding out a hand to stop his words. Her mind filled with all of the sentences he could have said and she couldn't stomach the rejections she came up with. Not when she hadn't been able to tell him yet how much she loved him. "Please, let me say what I came to say. Then you can make your decision as to whether you still want me."

She watched him war over his thoughts before determination entered his gaze and he nodded.

"I've been a complete mess since Seattle, since I realised how blind and stupid I'd been. I didn't want to know all of the wonderful things you'd done to amend your past…not until recently when I couldn't ignore it anymore. And I wanted to thank you for what you did for Millie. It means the world to her. I know she would never have been able to do anything worthwhile for who knows how long if it weren't for you. And Harry…"

She grinned and wiped away some of the tears. "He sounded so happy and I know you did that. You've righted your wrongs, Draco, and I wanted to right mine." She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she said next. "I keep pushing you away—and I wanted you to know," she said as the tears fell harder on her cheeks, "that I won't push you away this time. Even though I'm probably already too late and you've found someone who's fabulous and doesn't scold you…but I want you to know that I'm here. If you want me."

Her eyes stayed locked on his and she let every vulnerability she'd ever felt envelope her in its embrace and show itself freely to Draco, just as he had done for her months before. "I don't know if it's good enough," she said around her tears, "and I'm so sorry it took me so long to get here…but I was terrified."

His eyebrows pushed together. "Of what?"

More tears streamed down her face and a laugh bubbled out of her. Of what, indeed? "Of you," she said softly. "Of everything that you are and everything you represent. Of everything I was feeling. Of how much I love you. I… even now, my heart is just _dying_ to pull you closer to me, but there's this wall in the way and I don't know how to get through it."

Three beats passed…four…five…of them just staring at each other. Her eyes roamed over his face, unsure of what to do next, and found his intense stare even more frightening.

What if, after all this, he just turned around and asked her to leave? Asked her to stay out of his life forever? How would she go on?

He took a slow, timid step forward, then another…two more before he stood a hair's breath away. With a shy smile that tempered the light she saw in his eyes, he reached for her with both hands and grasped her hips, pulling her towards him. "I know," he whispered, slowly lowering his head towards hers. "I know how to get through it."

"Will you teach me?" she asked, staring up into his eyes, slowly feeling happiness and relief flood through her system.

He smiled warmly. "Of course. I find I like you coming to me as much as I love coming to you."

And then he kissed her.

Hermione gasped her surprise at the sudden feeling of his lips sweeping against hers. They were softer than she'd imagined and she could feel the power of his emotions behind every kiss he placed on her.

"Mmm, wait," she said, pulling away only slightly. She had to tell him… she had to. "I love you, Draco."

Draco grinned. "I heard," he said before going in for another kiss.

She smiled as more tears ran down her cheeks and she wrapped her arms around his neck, letting her fingers run through his soft platinum-blond hair and hummed contentedly. She suddenly felt what she'd read in Harry's letter not an hour ago: complete and overwhelming happiness that left her delirious in its wake.

"It was for you," he mumbled against her lips, slowing down the kiss.

"Hmm?"

"Everything, love," he said once he'd managed to pull himself back and laid his forehead against hers. "That is to say, it isn't as if I don't care about what happens to Millicent or Pansy…or even Potter, I suppose…but I know how important they are to you. I did it—all of it—for you."

She pushed herself into him until there was absolutely no space between them left and allowed her heart to let it beat for him, content that they were now together. "Tell me again."

"I love you."

She grinned. "Again."

He smirked. "Saucy wench. I love you."

"Again," she whispered as she rubbed her lips against his.

"I love you," he breathed before taking her lips in another tantalizing kiss.

o-o-o

Hermione breathed deeply, the first thing her mind registering was that she felt warm, comfortable, and well rested. Underneath the soft fabric she was touching, a heartbeat was thudding rhythmically against her hand. There was also something soft touching her arm and, without opening her eyes, she moved her arm and found that it was a blanket laying over her.

The second was a deep, masculine scent that was both clean and woodsy. She moved her nose in closer and took another deep breath, sighing softly. She recognised the scent immediately, the memory of it having plagued her mind for the past few months. Hermione decided it was one of her favorite smells and went in for a third sniff.

The third was the soft puffs of air hitting the top of her head and the brush of something soft against her temple, tickling her. She snuggled deeper and sighed, feeling Draco's arms tighten around her in return. The feel of his very warm body lying closely with hers left her with nothing but feelings of contentment and joy.

They had stood in his foyer kissing languidly for what felt like the length of a wondrous eternity, getting used to the feeling of being able to have each other, before he realised she had far too many layers on. At his yawn, she had realised just how tired she was and was about to excuse herself to go home and promise to drop by later when he led her through his home to his private den, then over to the sofa where he lie them both down, covered them with a blanket, and together they promptly fell asleep.

Hermione felt him breathe deeply and stretch against her before he hummed contentedly. "Morning, love."

His voice had a scratchy, morning quality that was, quite possibly, the most wonderful thing she'd ever heard. She grinned and placed a soft kiss against his neck. "What time is it?"

"I don't know," he mused softly. "Hang on."

She looked up and saw him grab his wand from the end table and with a swish _12:14 pm_ appeared in the air before disappearing in wisps of dark green smoke.

"We slept for five hours," she said before turning back around and burying herself in his warmth again. "More than I've been able to in days—since that stupid article actually."

He huffed a laugh into her hair before kissing the top of her head. "I was furious about that, but Pansy, unfortunately, _wouldn't_ let me kill that bespectacled bint."

"So, there's no truth to it?" she mumbled against the fabric of his tee shirt.

He placed a hand on her shoulder and pushed her gently on to her back to get her to look at him. "Absolutely not," he said softly, holding her gaze. "I'm yours, Hermione." He brushed his thumb against the smooth skin of her cheek before laying a kiss against her lips. "I have been for a long time now. You bewitched me, body and soul, and I'm not going anywhere."

Hermione sighed as she trailed her fingers down his cheek. "I've been such a bloody fool," she said softly, more to herself than anything.

Malfoy shook his head lightly. "We both have, love. You can't admonish your stubbornness without at least addressing my own. If only I'd treated you better in the beginning, perhaps we would have gotten here sooner."

Hermione smiled. "Now, normally I might agree with you. But perhaps I needed it. Perhaps I needed the months of confusion and pain and heartache to realise that all this time, I'd wanted you."

"God, Hermione," he groaned as he leaned down to kiss her, a pained expression on his face, "it's unbelievable how much I love you."

"Trust me," she said with a smile between pulls of his lips, "I know the feeling."

"Tell me."

"I love you, Draco Malfoy. I love you with all my heart."

o-o-o

Harry Potter and Pansy Parkinson were currently in the kitchen of her flat in Milan, she sitting on the edge of the counter with him standing between her legs. They were whispering quietly, smiling and laughing every few seconds—a two-carat, princess cut, diamond engagement ring gleaming on her left ring finger.

They both looked up at the sound of a tapping on the window to see a dark eagle owl waiting patiently to enter, a letter attached to the scroll on its right leg.

"Lelantos," she said surprised. At Harry's confused look she explained. "Draco's owl."

He kissed her on the lips lightly. "I'll grab it."

"Thanks, love."

Harry went over and opened the window, following the bird over to the table and grabbing the letter before holding out a couple of treats for the impressive owl to take. The owl crunched happily before taking off without waiting for a reply and Harry started to walk back towards his fiancé before he stopped suddenly.

"What is it?" Pansy asked.

"It's addressed to me," Harry said in bewilderment before looking up at her. "And it's in Hermione's writing."

The couple exchanged a confused look before he opened the letter and began to read, a smile slowly forming on his face before a wide grin stole his features and he chuckled.

o-o-o

_December 7, 2003_

_Dear Harry,_

_Please say hello to Pansy for me, which I'm sure won't be that far of a stretch since she's undoubtedly close by, and also congratulations. I'm so happy for you, Harry. You deserve every happiness, and I know Pansy will be very significant in that respect. I can't wait to see you two together next Sunday._

_Speaking of which, I'll be bringing someone. I'm sure by now Pansy has informed you as to whose owl this letter is being delivered by, so I'm positive you'll be able to deduce their identity. I'll expect you're confused, an emotion I've become quite familiar with these past few months, but don't worry. Just know that I am the happiest creature in the world, and that, just like Pansy, he too will be around for a very long time._

_I'll explain everything on Sunday, I promise. I am a little worried about Ron, so I'll be having lunch with Ginny this week and will tell her then—perhaps together, if you wouldn't mind, we could manage to convince him from completely exploding? Draco's suggested a good _levicorpus_ will make things easier, and even though he was joking and I don't normally condone such things, I must admit that the thought sounds appealing. I do hope it won't come to such measures, but keep it in the back of your mind just in case. You know how he can get._

_Beyond you two, the only other person that knows is Millie. I'm sorry for being so secretive, but this just isn't the kind of thing you can explain in a letter. See you two Sunday._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

* * *

"_How could you begin?" said she. "I can comprehend your going on charmingly, when you had once made a beginning; but what could set you off in the first place?"_

"_I cannot fix the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I know that I _had_ begun."_

– Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy, Pride & Prejudice (1813)

* * *

**Author's Note:**

_Lelantos_ – Titan of air and the hunter's skill of stalking prey.

Draco's "I have been for a long time now. You bewitched me, body and soul, and I'm not going anywhere," is from the 2005 movie via Matthew MacFadyen's dashing Mr. Darcy. The original quote is, "You have bewitched me body and soul, and I love…I love…I love you and never wish to be parted from you from this day forward."

"I am the happiest creature in the world" is taken directly from _Pride & Prejudice_ in a letter to Mrs. Gardiner from Lizzy at the end of the novel.

Voila! We are at the end folks :) Well, not quite. I do have one itty-bitty epilogue that I'll upload in a few days. (Still working on the darn thing, if you can believe it!)

Thank you for staying with me and please tell me what you thought!


	14. Epilogue

**Author's Note:** Two things. One, this got very fluffy very quickly and I make no apologies because these two deserve it. And two, their perspectives shift because I'm indecisive like that.

Thank you again for reading.

* * *

"There you are."

Draco looked up and smiled softly at the woman coming his way—a woman that he'd come to regard for a very long time as the love of his life. She was a beautiful sight to behold, he thought, as she paused in step and watched him.

Hermione had been looking for her husband for the past fifteen minutes, having realized he was nowhere in sight. It didn't surprise her, really, knowing he wasn't a big fan of crowds and boisterous company—much preferring quiet solitude over upbeat parties. She had searched throughout the Burrow and its grounds, coming in contact with many people mid-celebration—it was Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's Ruby Wedding Anniversary party—before finally finding him on the outskirts of the property sitting on an overturned log. He'd had his elbows on his knees and a faraway and contemplative look in his eyes.

It was a gorgeous, summer evening. The sun hung low in the sky and cast a soft glow on Draco, making his hair practically glint in the light—a direct contrast to his crisp, black suit, the dark blue tie matching the color of her dress perfectly.

"Are you all right?" Hermione asked as she came to sit beside him, reaching her arm through and clasping his warm, strong hand.

His fingers curled against her own as he replied, "Very. Just wanted to get out for a while. You?"

"Mmm, I'm doing very well." Hermione leaned against him and rested her head on his shoulder before taking a deep breath.

Draco kissed the top of his wife's head before softly rubbing his thumb along the smooth skin of her hand. "I love you."

Hermione smiled. "I love you," she replied before leaning up and kissing him softly on the chin.

"I've been thinking," he started as she nestled back on his shoulder, letting his words trail off.

"Yes?" she asked. There was something in his tone that signaled a serious discussion and she turned to look up at him.

"While I was at Diagon Alley last week picking up my suit, I saw this toy racing broom in a window, and all I could think was how much I wanted to teach my children how to fly." He looked sideways at her and took in her sharp and thoughtful gaze. "I imagined the smiles on their faces at flying for the first time and the Quidditch games we would go to, and I got this overwhelming urge to start as soon as possible."

Hermione searched his face for the answers to the question she hoped he was proposing. "Are you... Are you saying you want to have kids? Now?"

"What do you think?" Draco replied in question, watching the emotions flit across her face and waiting out her response.

"I… but we… are you serious?"

Draco smiled warmly before leaning in and kissing her softly on the lips. "Yes, love. I'm serious." At her silence, he continued. "I admit that in the beginning of our marriage I wanted to wait—being far too selfish to share you already—but I think it might be time. I want to start a family with you, Hermione," he said as he grabbed both her hands in his and stared straight into her eyes. "I want little bushy-haired know-it-alls running around our home."

Hermione grinned as she poked her husband in the side.

Truth be told, he hadn't been the only selfish one in their relationship. She'd wanted him all to herself just as much. So they'd waited. But maybe he was right… maybe it was time. Hermione smiled as she turned to face forward and rested her head on his shoulder once more, imagining the little outfits she would pick out for them and books she'd read to them. "Okay," she said softly.

Draco looked at her with a grin. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. I want bushy-haired know-it-alls running around our home too."

Draco laughed.

"You know Lucy will be excited. She's been bugging me for years to just have little Lucy and get it over and done with."

"I think I'm offended, love. Is that the only reason you want my children?" he asked teasingly, a warm glint in his eyes that she'd long become fond of.

Playfully, she lifted a shoulder and sighed. "I suppose you'll do. For now anyway."

Draco chuckled as he ducked his head and buried his face in the crook of her shoulder, nibbling on the soft skin of her neck. "Oh, yeah? When is it you plan on getting rid of me?"

Hermione smiled softly and turned her head, whispering in his ear, "Never."

"Never's an awfully long time."

"Not long enough when I've got you."

_The End_

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**Author's Note:** Here we are, folks. I hope you enjoyed their journey as much as I did :) Please leave a review and tell me what you thought!


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